


Home for Christmas

by ackermom



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Baking, Childhood Friends, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Minor Gabi/Falco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:08:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27826561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ackermom/pseuds/ackermom
Summary: After being away for years, Bertholdt returns home to settle the estate of his late father and sell the family Christmas tree farm. But he doesn't expect to run into Reiner, his childhood best friend, who seems to determined to keep the farm in family hands.
Relationships: Reiner Braun/Bertolt Hoover
Comments: 35
Kudos: 141





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> small warning for implied/off-screen character death, as the premise of the story is that bertholdt returns home after his father has passed and it's discussed a little bit.
> 
> otherwise, you can expect fluff, fake dating, mutual pining, christmas parties, baking, ice skating, and everything else you could want in hallmark christmas movie au!

**Holly Valley**  
12 miles

Bertholdt already knows where he is, well before his car passes the sign. He recognized the road a few miles back, when the gentle snow that had been following him from the city finally began to let up. He came around a bend, and suddenly the winding road into the valley appeared before him. It was a lonely sight from the top of the mountain pass— a long, empty road seemingly going nowhere. Through the snowfall, Bertholdt could barely make out the lights of the town. If he didn't know it was there, he would not have seen it at all. It's been so long that he wasn't sure he would recognize it at all. But he could tell: Holly Valley, just twelve more miles. Home, just a few minutes away. 

His car radio falters on the drive down the mountainside. The upbeat holiday tunes fizzle out into static. He switches it off instead of trying to tune it back.

The road twists down the mountain, with sharp bends and curves that would be dangerous for inexperienced drivers, especially with a light dusting of snow on the road. Bertholdt manages it without much trouble, and then he finds himself pulling into town, a slow and curious drive through the place he used to know. He can't help but turn his head to glance around as he drives along the main road. For most of Holly Valley, it's just a normal day, and people come and go casually through the small town. They walk with shopping bags loaded onto their arms, or cups of hot chocolate in their hands, strolling down the sidewalk through the snow, hats and scarves keeping them warm.

Not much has changed, he thinks. The people all look the same, and so does the town, for the most part. There are a few new shops along the main street, and some of the old potholes have been fixed. But the Christmas decorations are certainly the same as they've always been. Street lamps are strung with shimmering lights, and each door is adorned with its own green wreath. Poinsettias sit on doorsteps and street corners.

Bertholdt passes the main square on his way through town, and he sees that the town Christmas tree has already been lit. The annual lighting ceremony was always such a fuss around here. He watches the townspeople admire the tree as he waits at a stoplight, and with a pang, he wonders if it was the last Christmas tree his father ever sold. 

On the other side of town, things begin to get even more familiar. The main street widens out into a country road, and then Bertholdt is driving through a snowy landscape, dotted with family houses and telephone poles. The farther from town he drives, the closer he gets to the farm, and the more he begins to worry. His grip tightens on the wheel as the car carries on down the straight road. He thought he would be okay, coming back here after so long. He's only here for business, after all.

But soon the long road comes to an end, and as his car pulls towards the gates of the farm, he feels a lump form in his throat. Maybe he wasn't ready. Maybe he should have insisted on waiting until after the holidays. 

A familiar sign greets him at the gate: _Welcome to the Hoover Family Christmas Tree Farm_. He takes a deep breath and keeps driving.

The snow is still coming down lightly, but that never keeps the people of Holly Valley from coming out to the farm. 

He should have known; it was always a popular place, with kids and sleighs, with families and ice skates, and even with people from the other side of the valley, who came every year to sample the local cider and maple syrup. The main parking lot by the gift shop is full of cars, and as he pulls past, he realizes that he recognizes many of their visitors bundled up in hats and coats: longtime visitors to the farm, and some of his father's favorite customers. The tradition still carries on, apparently, even now that his father is gone.

Further down the road sits the old red barn, and past that, the farmhouse where Bertholdt grew up. He pulls into the drive quietly and sits for a moment, overcome by memories as he stares up at the big white house. There are no lights on inside, no smoke coming from the brick chimney. Through the front window into the living room, he thinks he can make out the shape of a Christmas tree, but it's bare, with no lights or ornaments. Curiously, someone has taken the care to hang a green wreath on the front door. That warms for a moment before he thinks it should have been him. 

His phone vibrates with a message. 

**Willy Tybur  
** Be there on the 26th.  
Looking forward to doing business with you.

Bertholdt presses the microphone button. "See you then. Looking forward to it as well." 

He leaves his car in the driveway. He's not ready to enter the house, at least not yet. When he thinks about it, he can barely remember the last time he was home. He must have still been in law school, and he was busy with exams and interviews and networking. If only he had known that this is what he'd be coming home to in just a few short years. 

He heads towards the barn instead. When his grandparents ran the farm, it was the stable where they kept their horses; but since Bertholdt's been a child, it's been the employee workshop, where they take care of everything from gift wrapping to inventory to crafts and repairs. He spent countless hours of his youth wrapping presents in the barn, and he knows that almost every teenager in Holly Valley did too. Sure enough, when he peers through the sliding doors, there are two teens inside, hard at work in their elf costumes: one of them sits on the counter, mindlessly curling ribbons and chatting, while her coworker stacks an absurd number of gift wrap tubes in his arms. 

Bertholdt heaves the sliding doors open and steps inside, shaking the snow from his hair. 

"Hi," he says shortly at the two teens staring at him. "Uh, I'm—"

"Hi!" the boy says brightly. He seems to consider dropping the wrapping paper bundles in his arms, but instead he fidgets uncomfortably, contorting his head to address Bertholdt with a smile. "How can we help you?"

"Well—"

"Customers aren't allowed in the barn," the girl says from where she sits on the counter. She hardly glances up from the ribbons that she curls violently by whipping them across scissor blades. "You'll have to go around to the gift shop. First building on the road."

"You can sample the maple syrup for free," the boy exclaims. 

Bertholdt dusts snow from his shoulders. "Right, thank you, but I'm not a customer. This farm belonged to my father, and I've just come to—"

"Mr. Hoover?" the boy exclaims, with a look somehow both joyous and crestfallen. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to say it like that."

"It's okay," Bertholdt says with a slight grimace.

"We really, really liked working for your dad," he continues, nearly shouting over the rolls of gift wrap in his arms. "Everyone here did! I'm really sorry for your loss, sir. But I'm really glad you're here now to take care of the farm! Everyone's been expecting you."

"Oh," Bertholdt says. He shifts. "Well..."

The girl suddenly stops curling ribbons.

"Wait," she says, glancing up. "You're Mr. Hoover's son? You're Bertholdt Hoover?"

He hesitates. "Yes."

She stares at him. "Interesting."

"I know you haven't been around for a while," the boy continues, apparently not minding the interruption. "But your dad loved this place and even though I know business hasn't been what it used to be, he still took really good care of the farm and all of us who work here! You are taking it over, right?"

"Oh, well, we'll see," Bertholdt says shortly. He pauses. "Is there someone who's in charge around here? Maybe someone a little older than you two?" 

The girl drops her scissors onto the table. "I've got the perfect guy for you. Hold on!"

She's out the door before Bertholdt can ask who she means, the bells on her elf slippers jingling all the way. The boy finally drops the masses of gift wrap in his arms; he aims to set them on the counter, but most of them cascade onto the floor, and he groans, a comical sight while he's wearing felt elf ears. Bertholdt smiles kindly and moves to help him pick them up. He knows his father must have had someone to help him manage the farm, but he can't remember any specific names coming up. He certainly hopes the farm hasn't been under the thumb of high school students this whole time. 

The girl is back within a minute. She darts through the door, tugging someone behind her, who protests and begs to know what the rush is— someone who, when Bertholdt glances up, he finds that he recognizes immediately. He stumbles to a halt behind the counter, a dusting of snow in his blond hair, and he doesn't bother to shake it out when his eyes meet Bertholdt's from across the room. 

Bertholdt's heart clenches.

Not Reiner Braun, not here. This is the last thing he needs right now: his childhood best friend, the one he was secretly in love with for so long, the one he hasn't spoken to since they drifted apart in their early twenties. He remembers now that Reiner had stayed on at the farm after they'd finished as a high school, working as a handyman and salesman, always promising that he'd find himself someday. He thought for sure Reiner would have done that by now. He would have gotten out of this town, like Bertholdt did, like they always talked about doing when they were teenagers. Truth be told, Bertholdt had spent his first few lonely years in the city thinking it was only a matter of time before Reiner joined him there. What is he still doing here after all these years? 

"Hi," Bertholdt says, a little breathlessly. 

From behind the counter, Reiner smiles back. "Hi there! And uh, Gabi, this is—"

"Bertholdt Hoover," Gabi exclaims, her arms crossed as she leans in to loudly whisper to Reiner. "He's here because he owns this place now."

Reiner's eyes grow wide.

"Oh," he exclaims. He drops his clipboard onto the counter and grins. "Oh my god, Bertholdt, I didn't even recognize you!"

Bertholdt gives his best smile. "It's okay. It's been a while."

"No, it's just because—" Reiner cuts himself off, coming around the counter to glance up and down at him. "I mean, you look so professional! Who wears a suit to a Christmas tree farm?"

He looks down at his outfit. "Oh. I just got in from the city, so..."

"I'm just teasing you," Reiner exclaims. He laughs as he bounds forward, taking the hand that Bertholdt awkwardly holds out to pull him into a bear hug. "I can't believe you're really here!"

He wraps his arms around Bertholdt's shoulders and squeezes him tightly. For a moment, Bertholdt freezes; he can't remember the last time he was hugged like this. But it all comes back to him then, the warmth of having someone hold him in their arms, and he hugs Reiner back gingerly, taking in his scent. He smells like home, in the way that Bertholdt didn't know he missed until now: pine and snow and maple syrup. But also like sugar, like wood shavings, and Bertholdt almost doesn't want to let go.

Finally, Reiner pulls away, but he doesn't step back. He stands just before Bertholdt, smiling up at him, hands lingering on his shoulders.

"Hi, Bertholdt," he says with a laugh. 

Bertholdt smiles back hesitantly. "Hi, Reiner. So, are you—"

"So you two know each other," Gabi exclaims from the other side of the room.

Reiner drops his hands and glances over his shoulder. "Yeah, you remember Bertholdt, right? We went to high school together. Well, all twelve years of school, actually. How does a small town boy like you survive in the big city?"

"Aw," Gabi says. She plasters on a smile. "Cute."

He gives her a look. "Okay, enough, Gabi. Bertholdt, what brings you back here? I mean—"

Reiner cuts himself off, a serious looking coming across his face. "I'm so sorry. That was careless."

Bertholdt shakes his head. "It's fine."

"I'm really sorry about your dad," Reiner says softer, leaning in so the kids can't hear. "It must have been hard for you."

"I'm fine," Bertholdt says after a moment. He purses his lips, trying not to meet Reiner's kind eyes. "It's fine. He was sick for a long time, so..."

He trails off, and Reiner nods, dropping his gaze. The two teens sitting behind the counter make poor attempts to hide their eavesdropping, and Bertholdt glances away to look for another topic of conversation. Through the sliding glass doors of the barn, he watches families pull into the parking lot and head into the gift shop to sample the local maple syrup. It's only a few days from Christmas; they must have sold almost all of their trees by now, but still the farm is packed with visitors. 

Bertholdt turns back to Reiner. "So, I came to settle some of my dad's business. Are you the manager here now?"

Reiner shrugs. "I guess so. Mr. Hoover— I mean, your dad, you know, he liked to do everything himself. He was really hands-on with the farm. The whole season had already been planned when— when he passed. We sold most of our trees the week after Thanksgiving, but we still had all of our regular events planned. I figured it just made more sense to carry on through the end of the season."

He smiles at Bertholdt. "But not anymore, I guess! You're taking over the farm like he wanted, right?"

Bertholdt tries to return the nonchalant smile. "Well, he didn't really want that."

"Oh," Reiner says, his face falling. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean..."

"It's fine," he says shortly. He shakes his head. "I couldn't do it anyways. I don't have time to take care of this place. I'm selling it."

Gabi slams her scissors onto the counter. "You're doing _what?"_

"He's doing _what?"_ Falco cries.

"Hey," Reiner barks, turning back to them, and they both simmer down. "Bertholdt is technically our employer now, so let's show him some respect, okay?"

He turns back to Bertholdt. "You're doing _what?"_

Bertholdt feels himself flush. "Well, I can't run this place. I've got a job, and a life back in the city. One of the partners in firm has been looking to buy land in the valley for years. I'm selling it to him."

Reiner stares at him. "But this is one of the last locally owned tree farms in the state. If you sell—"

"Mr. Tybur is local," Bertholdt insists. "He grew up across the river. Look, is my dad's office still in the house? I need to take care of some paperwork."

Reiner seems to hesitate, staring into Bertholdt with a determination that brings back memories of all the times Reiner was able to convince him to break the rules when they were kids. Gabi and Falco, too, sit slack-jawed at the counter. But the barn is not the right place for business, and Reiner seems to sense it. That, or can he still read Bertholdt like a book after all these years, and he can tell that Bertholdt doesn't want to discuss business at all. He swallows whatever argument he was about to spew, and instead he digs into his pocket to produce a ring of keys. 

"The house has been locked up," he says, starting for the door. "I'll let you in." 

Bertholdt nods. But his stomach is sinking as he follows Reiner back out the sliding door. Somehow, he feels like he's disappointed his friend, and within just a few minutes of their reunion. Just a few minutes ago, when he saw Reiner for the first time in years, something lit up inside of him, something soft and warm that he hasn't felt in a long time. He wonders how things would have been different if he had just been honest with Reiner, all those years ago. 

The night of their school graduation, they had swiped a bottle of hard apple cider and walked through the rows of young evergreens. Reiner had asked him— he can't remember the exact words now, but Reiner had asked him if he really wanted to leave Holly Valley for college. He had asked Bertholdt if he thought he'd have any regrets about leaving his home behind, and Bertholdt, feeling insecure, unrequited, and a little tipsy, had told Reiner he was certain: there was nothing left for him in Holly Valley. He had to leave.

As they head back to the farmhouse, Bertholdt trails a step behind Reiner, trying to remember why he'd said that. He can't remember if it was true then, and though he's content with his life in the city, he's not sure if it's still true now. 

The snowfall has let up, and their shoes leave faint footprints in the dusted white grass as they trail back to the farmhouse, the keys jingling in Reiner's hands. Bertholdt has never known him to be so quiet or to give up on an argument so easily, and sure enough, when they reach the red front door of the house, Reiner turns to talk to him as he searches for the right key. 

"I don't know what the state of the paperwork is," he tells Bertholdt without looking up from the keys. "I don't think he got the chance to write up any sort of longterm plan for the farm before he went into the hospital. And you know he didn't like to use computers, so there's a lot of files. It might take a while to go through."

He hesitates, plucking one key from the rest. "You don't have to tell me anything, but— I don't really know what happened. He'd only been gone for a few days when we heard the news."

Bertholdt says nothing at first, waiting as Reiner unlocks the front door. How strange, to be let into his own childhood home, a house that he now owns. It's quiet inside when the door opens, and then suddenly Bertholdt finds he does not want to go in alone. He pauses on the doorstep, slowly wiping the snow off his shoes. 

"I'll just leave you to it," Reiner says quietly, but Bertholdt glances up.

"Oh, no," he says. He swallows the lump in his throat. "You're welcome to come in."

He trails off, but he doesn't have to say anything else. Reiner simply nods, following after Bertholdt as he steps into the entrance to the house. It's cold inside after being left alone for the first few weeks of winter; and it's strange, when Bertholdt flicks the lights on, to feel such a pervasive silence stir throughout the house. There's dust on the stairs, and with a quick glance into the living room, he sees that everything is exactly as his dad left it: his knitting needles still laced with wool, the bare Christmas tree with a box of ornaments laid at its base. It's quiet, but he's reminded, when Reiner softly closes the front door behind them, that no matter how lonely the house may feel, he's not alone. 

"He was really sick," Bertholdt says suddenly, glancing over his shoulder at Reiner, who quietly meets his eyes. "He'd been okay for a long time, but he took a turn right after Thanksgiving and— even at the best hospital in the city, there wasn't a lot they could do for him."

Reiner gives him a sad smile. "At least you got to see him, right?"

He runs his hand on the bannister of the stair railing. He doesn't want to think about it anymore than he already has over the last few weeks. He spent so many years pretending he was too busy to come home, just so he wouldn't have to face his fears and memories. He doesn't want to think about those last days his father spent in the hospital, and the gentle way he talked to Bertholdt.

He clears his throat. "Yeah, at least I was with him. I just wish the hospital here had been able to do his treatments. I think he would have preferred to be at home." 

Reiner nods, then glances down the side hall. "Well, the office is— you know. This is your house. Sorry."

He follows Bertholdt down the hallway to the office, where its condition leaves Bertholdt dismayed. He knew his father was never very organized with the paperwork, but it's much worse than the last time he saw it. The office is strewn with files, stacked on the desk and the floor and the windowsill. Receipts are pinned to a cork board on the wall, and the ancient computer that his father hated to use lies dusty on a sideboard in the back of the room. Reiner was right: it will be a lot of work to sort through all the files, but if Bertholdt wants to get rid of this farm, then it's something he has to do. 

Reiner lingers in the doorway as Bertholdt traipses into the room, his long coat brushing over stacks of folders on the floor. He reaches the center of the room and sighs; he just has to find the important papers for the sale, and then the rest of it can be dumped. He reaches for a file on the desk and brushes dust off its cover. 

"I don't want to intrude," Reiner says suddenly from the doorway. He fidgets with the keys. "Anymore than I already have."

Bertholdt glances back at him. "If you're going to ask if I'm serious about selling the farm—"

"Yes, exactly."

"Yes," Bertholdt says. "I'm serious." 

Reiner crosses his arms, his flannel shirt pulling across his chest. "Bertholdt— I know we haven't talked in a while, and I know you're some kind of big city lawyer now—"

Even as he continues to dust off his father's desk, Bertholdt can't help but smile at that.

"But this place is important you," Reiner continues. He pauses. "I know it is. And it's important to the town. A lot of people would really miss the farm if it wasn't here anymore. Where will we get our Christmas trees?" 

Bertholdt sighs. "Look, my dad's not here anymore. There's no one to run it, so it has to go."

"But couldn't you run it?"

He glances across the room at Reiner, his brow furrowed. "It's a Christmas tree farm. I'm a lawyer."

"But you grew up here," Reiner insists, unfolding his arms. He steps into the room. "You know more about the business than anyone else here."

"Willy Tybur knows more about business than me," Bertholdt says. He turns back to Reiner, shaking his head as he wipes his dusty fingers off on his coat. "He'll be here the day after Christmas to sign the paperwork, and then I have to get back to my job." 

Reiner wrinkles his nose. "Who does business over Christmas?" 

Bertholdt frowns. "Reiner, I appreciate what you're saying, but the sale is as good as final. It would look bad if I backed out now, even if I wanted to. It's over."

"Right," Reiner says with a sigh, turning back to the door. "Okay, sorry. I know it's not my business. I just wish— never mind." 

The keys jingle as he heads out. For a moment after he disappears down the hall, Bertholdt feels a pang in his chest, wishing he'd asked Reiner to stay and help him, or at least let Reiner say his piece in full. It's true, after all, that the farm is important to the people of Holly Valley. They've all worked there at one point or another, and generations of families have grown up buying their Christmas trees at the farm. 

Bertholdt glances at the shelf above his father's desk at the collection of family photos, sitting there and collecting dust. His great-grandparents, selling their first Christmas tree; his grandparents' wedding in the old barn; and his own parents, with their young son, sledding down the big hill at the back of the lot. Something tight wells up in his chest when he looks at the smiles on his parents' faces. 

A sudden pair of footsteps clammer down the hall, and Bertholdt glances up just in time to see Reiner skid back through the doorway, the keys loudly clanging in his hand. 

"We're having a party tonight," he exclaims, staring at Bertholdt. "It's an engagement party and Christmas party, two in one. It's going to be a good time. You should come!"

Bertholdt feels his heart clench. "Oh. Are you—?"

"Oh, no," Reiner laughs. "Not me, sorry. I'm as single as ever. It's for my mom. She's getting married. And I know she'd be happy to see you. Will you come?"

"Uh, well— tell her I said congratulations, but I don't really know if—"

"Annie will be there," he continues, leaning on the doorframe. "And everyone else from school. It'd be nice if you said hi to them. Annie's, uh, I mean, her dad is marrying my mom, so we're gonna be step-siblings. It'd be nice if you stopped by. It might make things less weird."

Bertholdt blinks. "Your mom... is marrying—"

"Mr. Leonhart," he confirms with a half-hearted smile. He shrugs. "I know, I know, but this town's kind of one big family anyways. Everyone would be really happy to see you, I'm sure."

"I just don't know," Bertholdt says, his voice breaking into something softer. He clears his throat. "It's been a while since I've been back to Holly Valley. I don't want to impose on anyone."

"You wouldn't be," he exclaims, breaking into a nervous smile. "Honestly, they've love to see you! It's been so long."

Bertholdt pauses. "Well..."

"You can tell everyone it's a pity date," Reiner laughs, then freezes. "I mean, that you would be pity dating me, because— you don't have to pretend it's a date, if that's weird. Just forget that I said that."

He can't help but smile. "Why do I get the feeling that your mom is begging you to bring someone home?"

Reiner flushes. "She thinks all I do is work. Will you come, please? I don't want to think about you locked in this house by yourself."

Bertholdt stares at him, standing there in the doorway with that adorable smile on his face; even though it's been so many years, and so many things have changed, Reiner's smile still manages to pierce him exactly the same. It sends shockwaves through Bertholdt, who can feel himself breaking down under the warmth of that smile. He's never been one for holiday parties, or parties of any kind, really, but this may be the last time he's ever in Holly Valley. He might as well say goodbye to everyone.

"Alright," he says finally with a sigh. He shakes his head. "I'll come, but just for a bit. I have a lot of paperwork to get through."

Reiner beams. "Oh, thank you! My mom would never forgive me if she found out you were in town and she didn't get to compare your life choices to mine! I'll pick you up, you don't want to park your nice car out at my house, not with the way the snow is falling. It'll all be mud by tonight. See you later!"

The front door slams on his way out, and he leaves Bertholdt alone in the office with a stack of his father's dusty files in his hand. Bertholdt blinks, trying to make sense of everything that's happened since he arrived.

He has a feeling that Holly Valley isn't finished with him yet.


	2. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bertholdt accompanies Reiner to his family's Christmas party and runs into a few familiar faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you may have already seen this chapter, but it's been slightly rewritten to accommodate for the fact that my computer hates me. sorry about that

Night falls sweetly over the valley, ribbons of midnight sky coming down over the mountains in the distance. The Christmas tree farm sparkles under the darkness, with lights strewn between the rows of evergreens, and the headlights of family cars pulling away from the parking lot as business closes for the evening.

Bertholdt stands at the window of the farmhouse, distracted as he watches the cars leave. Just a few days until Christmas, and the farm is still as busy as ever. He took a look through the calendar of events for the season, and though the farm was always popular when he was a kid, he's surprised by how many events are still going on. Families brought their kids to meet Santa this afternoon in the gift shop, and there's ice skating tomorrow on the pond out back. In a way, he thinks it's a good thing. One last great Christmas season for the farm and all of Holly Valley, and then the business will be handed over to other hands. All good things come to an end, he reasons. There's no sense in making this farm the exception. 

The house grows cold as evening falls. His father's office is especially drafty, with old farmhouse windows barely sealed shut to keep out the night. Maybe it's good that he's giving the house away too. It's his childhood home, but it desperately needs to be updated.

He finds a blanket and drapes himself in it as he continues to sort through his father's paperwork, sipping hot tea from a mug he found in the kitchen. If the house is outdated, his father's filing system is ancient. He has barely made heads or tails of the paperwork on the desk before a pair of yellow lights shine suddenly through the house, glimpsing from the front window of the living room, down the hall, and into the office where Bertholdt sits with the lights low. He sits upright, his stomach sinking a bit. He can't say he's looking forward to this Christmas party, but he did promise Reiner he would attend. And if he's really never coming back to Holly Valley, then he should give it a proper send-off.

A gust of cold wind hits Bertholdt when he steps out the front door, and he gasps. He didn't realize that it was still snowing; the drive up to the house is dusted in white, and so is the rest of the farm, as far as he can see in the darkness. He wishes now he had brought warmer clothes from the city, but he supposes his coat will have to do. 

A red truck sits in the drive beside Bertholdt's car, and in front of it stands Reiner, waving a hand at whoever must be inside, fidgeting with the lights.

"No, keep them on," he shouts over the roar of the old engine. "Yes, keep the lights on! We're headed out! Is the car in park?"

Bertholdt traipses down the steps of the front porch, his hands tucked into the pockets of his long coat. Reiner turns when he hears Bertholdt's shoes crunching in the show, and he grins from beneath his fluffy trapper hat. He trots up to Bertholdt through the snow.

"Hey!" he says when he approaches. He stuffs his hands in his pockets. "Winter in Holly Valley is just like you remember, isn't it?"

"I don't remember it being quite this cold," Bertholdt says. He gestures to the truck. "Is that our ride?"

"Oh, yeah, my cousin," Reiner explains, glancing over his shoulder. "Gabi? You met her earlier today. She just got her driver's license and insisted on driving tonight so she could practice in the snow. I don't know how much I trust her, so you might be in for a bit of a bumpy ride."

Bertholdt tries not to grimace, but he's not sure he's successful. Reiner grins widely at him.

"I hope you haven't eaten yet," he says, leading Bertholdt to the car. "Mom's going to offended if you don't have at least two plates." 

They clamber inside the truck, the three of them squeezing onto one bench together. Bertholdt is a little dismayed to remember that Reiner's old truck doesn't have proper heating, but the flush through his face more than makes up for it when he's tucked in tightly beside Reiner, their knees pressed together. He loosens his scarf and takes a deep breath.

"Gabi," Reiner says, nudging his cousin. "You remember Bertholdt?"

"I met him five hours ago," she says as she puts the truck into reverse.

"Well, you met him a long time ago when you were little," Reiner says. He glances to Bertholdt. "She probably doesn't remember you. Don't take it personally."

Gabi seems fixated on her responsibility as a driver, her gloved hands clutched tightly to the steering wheel and her eyes steeled on the snowy road ahead. This determination reassures Bertholdt for a few seconds, before they set off on the road and it becomes clear that she is not a very experienced driver. They take off from the farm and nearly crash into the gate on their way out, saved in the nick of time by Reiner's nervous laugh and guiding hand on the steering wheel. Bertholdt latches onto the passenger door and watches his knuckles turn white. 

Despite the death wish that Gabi seems to have for him, Bertholdt finds that he enjoys the drive through Holly Valley after night. It's reminiscent of his youth. Even after dark, he begins to recognize the familiar places around town: the long road through the countryside, where they used to take joy rides on their bicycles; the shops on main streets, twinkling with lights, and their favorite diner when they were teens; even their old high school, with football fields and bleachers and so many memories. Reiner tunes the radio to a Christmas station, and for a few minutes, it's nice to sit back and remember the days that have gone. 

A sharp turn onto a muddy road signals that they're near Reiner's house, and that's when Gabi decides to pop the question.

"Are you Reiner's boyfriend?" she asks, shifting gears. The entire car shudders.

"What?" Reiner exclaims before Bertholdt can even open his mouth. "I was just kidding about that! I told her that you were going to be my pity date tonight, but I was just kidding."

"Oh," Bertholdt says. He tugs his scarf looser. 

"Is that what you're going to tell Aunt Kay?" Gabi asks. She takes her eyes off the road for a split second to raise an eyebrow at Reiner, and Bertholdt grips onto the door handle. "She's not going to believe that you two are just friends, even if you are."

"Of course she will," Reiner exclaims. "Why wouldn't she believe that?"

Bertholdt glances at him, then back to the road, quickly deciding that he will give Reiner the benefit of the doubt and assume that it's just a little too warm in the car, with all three of them squished in together. 

"You know what she's like," Gabi says. "She thinks it's a downright travesty that you're still single. It would probably save everyone some grief tonight if you just pretend like you're dating." 

"I was just kidding about that," Reiner says. He turns to Bertholdt. "She'll just be happy to see you. Make sure to tell her how successful you are and how many degrees you have. She'll love that." 

The truck meanders along the muddy road in the dark for a minute, but at the end of the road lies a growing glimmer of lights. Bertholdt knows from memory that it's Reiner's home at the end of the street, but still, he's overwhelmed by the sheer number of Christmas lights adorned on the house when they arrive. There are string lights hung from every eve, a dancing display on the lawn, and a bounty of poinsettias and wreaths upon the doors and windows. He jumps out of the truck, blinking back at the overwhelming array of lights. Even from outside the house, he can begin to hear Christmas music on the stereo and the buzz of party conversation. He braces himself for what lies inside. 

"I forgot how much your family likes Christmas," Bertholdt says weakly when Reiner leaps out of the truck behind him.

"Oh, yeah," he says with a shrug. "Well, doesn't everyone? Hold on, I have to get something from the back."

Sure enough, he produces a flat tray from the bed of the truck and dusts the snow off the top with his hand. Bertholdt frowns as he brings it around. 

"Cupcakes?" he asks, pointing.

Reiner glances at him. "Yeah! What, you don't like cupcakes now?"

"No," he says. "Did you bake those?" 

Gabi snorts as she stomps through the snow to head for the front door. "Baking is all he does."

Bertholdt looks at him. "Wait, really?" 

"Well, I guess," Reiner explains, following his cousin. "I mean, yes, professionally, but sometimes personally too."

"Professionally?" Bertholdt exclaims, but that's the last word he gets to say on the matter, because when they reach the front porch, the door suddenly flies open, as if on silent command. 

Bertholdt starts. The open door lets out a flood of Christmas smells, like freshly baked pie and cranberry juice, and the cheerful jingle of a Christmas radio station. But most impressively is Karina Braun, Reiner's mother, who gives a gasp so well-rehearsed that Bertholdt thinks she must have been watching them approach from the window. 

"Is that Bertholdt Hoover?" she exclaims, smiling up at him. She throws a hand over her heart. "Oh, how lovely to see you back home for the holidays, dear, after been away for so long!"

"Oh," Bertholdt says. "Hi, Ms. Braun."

"Oh," Karina exclaims with a laugh. She pats Bertholdt on the arm. "Dear, you know you can just call me Karina!"

"We're here too," Gabi mutters.

"Hi, Mom," Reiner says over the cupcake tray. "I hope it was okay that I invited Bertholdt. He didn't have anywhere else—"

"—to go for Christmas," Karina finishes. She gives Bertholdt a pitiful look. "I was so sorry to hear about your father, dear. Everyone in Holly Valley was torn up at the news. I'm sure it must have been so very hard for you, poor dear. He was very sick, wasn't he? And you were all alone in that big city! How terrible."

Bertholdt tries not to grimace. "Uh, thank you. I'm fine, though. But thank you."

Reiner shifts the cupcake tray into one hand and touches Bertholdt's arm with his other. "Let's get inside, okay? Everyone will be happy to see you."

They both jump when Karina sucks in a sharp breath. Reiner drops his hand, but he's not quick enough. Karina has already latched onto them. 

"Reiner," she says slyly, turning to him. "Don't tell me— you've brought this young man all the way back to Holly Valley just to be with you for Christmas?"

His eyes go wide. "What? No, Mom, it's not like that—"

"You don't have to be embarrassed, sweetheart!" she exclaims, reaching out to pinch Reiner's cheek. "You know everyone in the valley has always been open-minded about your lifestyle! And if they're not, Mama Karina is here to sort them out."

"Bertholdt's just here to take care of the farm," Reiner protests, and Karina pats his cheek.

"Of course he is, dear." She turns back to Bertholdt, smiling with teeth. She grabs him by the arm and drags him into the foyer. "I have to say, I always thought you two would do well together! My, what a stunning couple. And what a gorgeous coat, my dear, let me take that for you! How much did that cost? I see it pays well to be a big city lawyer! You need to look good when you're in front of a jury, right?"

"I do property law," Bertholdt says as she slips the coat from his shoulders.

"I always worried that Reiner never inherited my good taste," she continues as if she didn't hear him, turning to hang his coat up with care, "but it looks like I may have been wrong after all! Well, that would be a historic first." 

Gabi pushes past Reiner, sticking her tongue out at him as an I told you so, and she kicks her snowy boots off on the welcome mat, causing Karina to whip around and glare at her.

"Oh, Gabi, dear," she remarks, her face crestfallen as she puts a hand over her heart. "Put your shoes by the door, you're not an animal. Don't you own any other jackets? You look like you're headed up to Brokeback Mountain."

She kicks her shoes to the door. "Sorry, Aunt Kay. Maybe Reiner and his boyfriend can take me coat shopping in the city."

"Gabi," Reiner hisses. 

"Oh, what an idea!" Karina exclaims. "Bertholdt, you have to tell me all about your life in the city. I'm sure you live in some charming brownstone in the historic district, right?"

"Uh—"

"Mom," Reiner insists, his face now thoroughly pink. "Please."

Karina's face falls, and even though Bertholdt knows she is an impossible woman to please, he figures it won't hurt to do this one little thing for his friend, especially if they're not likely to see each other again. Reiner's mom has always had high hopes for him, and if she'll be satisfied tonight to believe Reiner is dating a big city lawyer— well then, so be it. He nudges Reiner with his elbow, giving him a soft smile. 

"Come on, we can tell her," he says, his voice low. "Can't we... darling?" 

Reiner stares up at him, his eyes widening. A small blush begins to creep up on his cheeks, his mouth falling open as he searches for something to say, and Bertholdt hesitates. He wonders if maybe he's crossed a line; maybe he should have just kept his mouth shut and let Karina nag them all evening. But by the time that thought crosses his mind, it's already too late.

Karina gasps. "I knew it! Reiner, why didn't you tell me? Didn't you want your poor, dear mother to know about this handsome young man?"

"We're still, um," Reiner says, trailing off. He glances around at Bertholdt, who gives him a smirk, before turning back to his mom. "It's still new." 

"I'm very successful," Bertholdt says, and Reiner throws him a look that tells him he's pushing it. 

"We're going in," he says, grabbing Bertholdt around the elbow, which only serves to make Karina throw a hand over her heart and nearly swoon. "Is everyone here?"

The party has just started when Reiner leads him through to the living room, where his family members have gathered on the sofa with cups of hot cocoa, exchanging pleasantries to kick off the evening. Bertholdt is introduced, one by one, though most of them remember him from when he lived in Holly Valley; it gets a little weird, calling himself Reiner's boyfriend, but his aunts and uncles seem thoroughly impressed, and then it becomes more like a game, seeing how far he can go before Reiner drags him away. 

The doorbell begins ringing nonstop as the other guests start arriving. More people crowd into the house, and the music is turned up to a cheerful Christmas song as drinks are poured and snacks delivered. Bertholdt finds himself pinned to the wall next to Reiner as the party grows. Reiner glances up at him, a coy smile playing on his lips. 

"You didn't have to do that, you know," he says.

Bertholdt feigns innocence. "Do what, darling?"

"Stop it," Reiner says, nearly giggling. He elbows Bertholdt. "You know what I mean! Pretending to be my boyfriend and all that. You're making me look good in front of everyone."

He shrugs. "It definitely made your mom happy. She'll get off your back now, won't she?" 

"Well, maybe," Reiner says with a shrug. "At least until we 'break up'. I'm going to have to hear about that forever. I can't do better than a lawyer! Maybe once you're gone I can convince her that we're doing long-distance."

Bertholdt smiles. "How long would that last? You want to fake a wedding too?" 

"I could never pull that off," Reiner says, laughing. "She already has my wedding planned. But seriously, thanks. I'm always the only one who's single during the holidays, and now I get to shove it in everyone's faces. At least for one night."

He glances back at Bertholdt. "This isn't weird, is it? Showing you off as my rich, successful boyfriend? I mean, you seem pretty set on not coming back to Holly Valley, so it's not going to be weird afterwards, right?"

Bertholdt pauses. He did make it pretty clear to Reiner that he wanted to move on from Holly Valley forever: this morning, when they met at the farm, and all those years ago, when they were just kids and Bertholdt left for college without ever looking back. He still means it. He's put his life on hold to come here and settle his father's estate, but he has things waiting for him in the city. He can't come back.

"Of course," he says. "As long as you're fine with it."

Reiner smiles. "It will probably be the most exciting gossip that anyone's gotten all year."

The doorbell rings again. Reiner sighs.

"I should go help set up the buffet," he says, turning to Bertholdt. "It looks like just about everyone's here, and I'm sure they're all hungry. I don't want to leave Mr. Leonhart on his own to take care of the crowd."

"Oh," Bertholdt says. "I can help you."

He shakes his head. "No, you just relax! You probably know everyone here. They'd all be happy to see you."

Reiner disappears down the hall, and Bertholdt turns back to the hall, a sudden knot forming in his stomach. When he scans the crowd of people, he thinks he does recognize most of them: extended family, former teachers, old friends and neighbors. It would be nice to see some of them again; after all, he came to the party tonight intending to say his goodbyes, since he won't be returning to Holly Valley after he sells the farm.

But the living room grows loud with happy conversations, and Bertholdt realizes that he'll be an interruption in each one. He'll have to reintroduce himself, and then will come the inevitable apologies and sincere well-wishes after his father's passing. He's not sure he wants to go through all of that, and put everyone else through it as well. 

He cranes his neck to glance the hall. He remembers the layout of Reiner's house well, but he doesn't want to intrude by prowling around searching for him. Come to think of it, he doesn't want to seem like he's clinging to Reiner either. They can still be friends, after all these years, but that teen crush he harbored is desperately trying to make its way back to his heart, and he doesn't want to cause any more misery before he leaves Holly Valley. 

Bertholdt heads for the kitchen instead, under the pretense of getting another drink. There's no one there when he steps inside, and for a moment, he breathes in the silence. It'll be okay, he reminds himself. This is just one night; then he can sell the farm and move on, back to his own life. 

A pair of heels click-clack onto the kitchen linoleum behind him.

"I would know those legs anywhere," a sudden voice says, and Bertholdt turns around, swallowing a mouthful of cocoa, to find one of his high school classmates winking at him.

"Pieck," he exclaims. He clears his throat. "Hi."

"Bertholdt Hoover," she drawls smiling at him. Her dark hair falls over her shoulders as she leans against the doorway. "It's been a long time, hasn't it?" 

"It has, yeah. How have you been?"

"Oh, little old me?" she says, raising an eyebrow. "I'm fine, though I have to say, I've been missing your company around Holly Valley. What's been keeping you away all these years?"

She wiggles her eyebrows at him. "Someone special?"

"Oh, no," Bertholdt says. Over her shoulder, he spies Reiner coming down the hall carrying a tray into the dining room. He's not quite sure how far this fake boyfriend operation is supposed to extend, but he thinks fooling their old friends might be a tad over the line. Still, it's too late. Pieck has already followed his gaze.

"Oh," she says, glancing back to him. "I see. A little Christmas reunion, hm?"

"No, it's not—"

"No need to explain," she says, shaking her head. She steps past him into the kitchen to refill her glass. "I always hoped you two would end up together." 

Bertholdt flushes. "Really?"

"Of course. You think we didn't notice the way you two used to pine after each other?"

"Huh?"

She cocks her head, smiling. "You never noticed the way Reiner looks at you?"

Bertholdt blanches at that. How does Reiner look at him? As far as he's ever known, Reiner's never considered him any more than a good friend. Bertholdt was the one with the unrequited crush all throughout high school— and longer than that, if he's being honest with himself. He remembers leaving junior prom early to go home and cry because he'd spent all night standing in the corner while Reiner danced with their more popular friends. He always assumed Reiner would never be interested in someone like him.

Pieck shrugs. "Ah, well, you certainly know now." 

He glances down the hall again. For a moment, there's no one there; but then Reiner steps out of the dining room again, a set of his glasses in his hands, distracted as he talks to someone in the room. Then he looks up. Their eyes meet down the long hall, and Reiner gives him a smile— so warm and bright that Bertholdt gets butterflies in his stomach.

"Oh, Annie," Pieck exclaims, twirling around. "Look who's here!"

Bertholdt turns back to find another old friend, and apparently Reiner's future step-sister, meandering into the kitchen and munching on a handful of olives. She gives Bertholdt a glance, eyeing him up and down as she leans back on the counter. 

"Hi, Annie," he says.

She pops another olive. "Hi."

So much for being gone for years. He listens to Pieck and Annie chit-chat for a bit, and then they fill him in on what he's missed since he left Holly Valley. Some of it is old gossip that he heard a long time ago; for a while, he kept in touch with Reiner while he was in college, but by the time he'd started law school, they only texted each other to wish a happy birthday. More of the news is recent, and the kind of stuff that sends a tiny pang of regret through him: who's getting married, who's had kids, and who's taking over their family business. These are the lives of the people he used to know, and for a moment, he thinks this could be his life too. 

In a way, Bertholdt feels like he could fit in so easily with this crowd of old friends, like it really hasn't been that long since he's been home. But on the other hand, everything is just different enough to make him feel like an outside. His friends are older, more mature, and they have jobs that he doesn't know about and partners he's never met. Even Reiner, who he thought upon first glance hadn't changed at all, has apparently taken up baking. 

"So," Pieck exclaims after a long-winded update. She takes a sip from her glass. "That's pretty much it from us. Tell us about you, Bertholdt. Ms. Braun wouldn't let me through the door without bragging about your six figure paycheck."

"I don't make that much," he says sheepishly, shifting his stance. "And I'm not a trial lawyer, like she thinks. I do property law."

"Fascinating," Annie mutters. 

From the living room comes a loud burst of laughter from the crowd, including the laugh that Bertholdt recognizes as Reiner's. Sure enough, he pops into the kitchen just a moment later, and he splits into a wide grin upon seeing three of his friends hanging out. 

"Hey!" he exclaims, bounding into the kitchen. He comes up beside Bertholdt, crossing his arms and leaning back against the counter. "I'm glad you guys found him! I was beginning to think I lost him."

"Mm," Pieck hums. "You better hold onto him, Reiner. All the girls are getting a little jealous of your big city boyfriend."

"Oh, yeah," Reiner says quickly. He flashes a grin at Bertholdt. "Because we're dating."

Annie rolls her eyes and squeezes past them to grab a drink from the refrigerator.

"So, Bertholdt," Pieck says, angling her head at him. "Are you coming back for good? I can totally see you in charge at that Christmas tree farm."

"It's being discussed," Reiner says firmly.

"I'm selling," Bertholdt says at the same time.

Pieck raises an eyebrow at them.

Annie snorts, cracking the top on her soft drink. "Discord already? This is going to be a tragic and short-lived relationship. Didn't you two just start dating when you stepped through the front door?"

"It's up for discussion," Reiner exclaims, giving her a look. "Don't you two think Bertholdt should keep the last local Christmas tree farm in the valley in his family?"

"It's not really up for discussion," Bertholdt says, but he's overtaken by Pieck's spurt of laughter as she cackles at Reiner.

"Is that what you're after?" she giggles. "Marrying into the Hoover family so you can keep the Christmas tree farm all for yourself?"

Reiner turns pink. "What? No! I'm just trying to convince him—"

"I think that's an offer Bertholdt might actually take you up on," Pieck exclaims. She pokes Bertholdt. "Wouldn't that be wonderful? You, your husband, the farm, and your overbearing mother-in-law?"

"Bertholdt," Annie says, turning back to them. "You might want to rethink this relationship. Reiner's only in it because Karina is after your inheritance."

"It's not like that," Reiner grumbles, but his blush only serves to make them snicker harder.

"Alright, enough," Bertholdt says. He slides one arm around Reiner's shoulders and pulls him closer. "That's my boyfriend you're talking about."

Annie's smirk quickly turns to a roll of her eyes. Pieck, on the other hand, lays a hand over her heart and coos at them.

"Aw," she sighs. "I've waited for so long to see this!"

Reiner shifts under Bertholdt's arm, still pink in the face. "What?"

"Oh, come on," she gushes. "You were destined to be together! We all thought so. Pock campaigned to get you two crowned prom king and queen, which was more homophobic than heartfelt now that I think about it. But I'm sure it was out of his love for you two!" 

Bertholdt sputters at that. Luckily, a commotion in the next room catches Pieck's attention, and she excuses herself, slipping out of the kitchen with her glass in her hand. Annie follows her, nodding to Reiner and Bertholdt on her way out; when they're gone, Reiner seems to breathe a sigh of relief, as glad as Bertholdt to be able to escape that conversation. He slips out from under Bertholdt's arm and crosses to the other side of the kitchen to make himself a new drink. 

"You didn't have to do that in front of them," he says, glancing back. "I'm pretty sure they don't believe us anyways."

"You're supposed to be my boyfriend," Bertholdt says, though he has to agree. Annie saw right through them. "What kind of partner would I be if I didn't stand up for you?"

Reiner rolls his eyes, smiling. "You're lucky Pieck didn't ask us to kiss. You know she would have if she'd stuck around much longer."

Bertholdt snorts. "Yeah, I wouldn't put it past her."

"Well," Reiner sighs, turning back around. "You don't have to put up with me much longer. I think everyone in Holly Valley is thoroughly impressed with my lawyer boyfriend."

He smiles. "Glad I could help."

Reiner smiles back at him, leaning against the opposite counter. He takes a sip from his glass, but his gaze hardly breaks from Bertholdt's, only fluttering down after a prolonged moment. Bertholdt feels his heartbeat pick up, and he swallows the lump forming in his throat. He told himself he was going to hide that high school crush, but if he's saying goodbyes tonight, then wouldn't this be the perfect time to tell Reiner how he used to feel? He doesn't know why it would matter now. They're not kids anymore, and they both have lives— very different lives, based on what he's seen tonight.

Still, there's a part of him that wants to blurt it out. And another part of him, slowly coming to the surface, that wants to know if Reiner ever felt the same way, like Pieck said.

Bertholdt opens his mouth, then fumbles. "So— you bake?"

Reiner laughs. "Oh, yeah. It's kind of weird that you don't know that about me. It feels like it's all anyone knows about me. We got snowed in a few years ago after a blizzard, and I decided to try my hand at making sourdough. Turns out I had a knack for it." 

He leaps up suddenly and grabs Bertholdt around the elbow, smiling. "You've never tasted my baking! Come on, I want to know what you think." 

He drags Bertholdt back into the living room, where the party has swelled to a joyous size, friends and family squeezed in beside each other and sharing holiday drinks; though it turns Bertholdt's stomach a bit, seeing all the people he used to know, and some that he's never met, being together like one happy family. Reiner was right when he said earlier that Holly Valley really is just like family. In such a small town, it's hard not to get to know people, but now that Bertholdt has been away for so long, he realizes he may no longer have a branch on that family tree. 

Reiner pulls him through the crowd and around the corner to the dessert buffet, which has attracted the children at the party, who stand to the side and surreptitiously admire the treats. Reiner shoos them away, insisting that they have to have dinner first; then he plucks a cupcake from the tray and hands it to Bertholdt.

"Should I be having dessert before my dinner?" Bertholdt jokes. 

"Shh," Reiner whispers, grinning. He holds Bertholdt's mug for him and stares at him in anticipation. "You're a guest in this house, you can do whatever you want. Come on, try it."

The smell of the cupcake hits Bertholdt first when he lifts it to his mouth— a sweetness that overpowers him. The cupcakes are decorated beautifully, white cake with frosting and tiny gold stars sprinkled on top. He can't remember the last time he's eaten something as silly as a cupcake— just be cake, or nothing— but he eagerly takes a bite. It's Christmas after all, and Bertholdt's not totally heartless. 

"Oh my god," he wheezes when he bites into the cupcake.

It's perfect. He may not know anything about baking, but the cupcake does everything right: perfectly moist vanilla cake, deliciously sweet frosting, and a dollop of custard in the center of the cake, balancing out the sweetness just right. He glances up at Reiner with wide eyes.

"This is really good," he mutters through a mouthful of cake. He swallows. "Sorry, I mean, this is really good."

Reiner beams. "Thanks! I thought you seemed like a vanilla kinda guy."

Bertholdt coughs. "Right. Um, did you say you bake professionally?"

"Mm," Reiner says as Bertholdt practically devours the rest of the cake. "I have a bakery downtown, where the frozen yogurt shop used to be. When they went out of business, the storefront was available and I just thought, well, why not?" 

He takes a sip from his glass. "We mostly do special orders, like wedding cakes. The cupcakes are pretty popular too. But the bread is my favorite."

Bertholdt swallows the last of the cake. "Bread?"

Reiner chuckles. "Well, it's simple. But so beautiful. Just a few ingredients, a lot of love, and you've got yourself a loaf of bread." 

He can't help but smile. Here is this gorgeous man, the boy who he was in love with for so many years, standing across from him at a Christmas party and talking about bread like it's a work of art. Bertholdt's heart almost cries out at the sight, but it settles down almost just as quickly. Reiner has a life here, and it's one that Bertholdt's not a part of. It wouldn't be fair of him to just dump his feelings on Reiner like that, especially when he's already been such a sourpuss about selling the farm.

He glances over the living room and observes all the smiling faces, people wearing Christmas sweaters of bright red and green. Suddenly the knot that's been tying in his stomach tightens, and for the first time since the night his father died, Bertholdt feels a well of tears building up behind his eyes, like everything that he's been holding back is trying to fight its way out. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to come to the party, or to come back to Holly Valley at all. He didn't realize until this moment how much he would've liked to spend one last Christmas with his dad. Even more than that, he didn't realize just how much he had missed this place. He'd never thought of Holly Valley as anything special, but in his heart, it's always been his home. 

"Oh, Bert," Reiner says suddenly. When Bertholdt blinks back his tears and glances over, his brow is furrowed in concern.

"I'm okay," Bertholdt mutters. He tries to smile. "I'm fine."

"I'm sorry," he says softer, peering at Bertholdt. "I didn't think— you don't have to stick around if this is hard for you. I should've said that earlier. I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking." 

"I'm fine," Bertholdt repeats, shaking his head. "Really, Reiner, I'm fine."

"Okay," Reiner says, though he doesn't sound reassured. He pauses. "Do you want to go upstairs for a bit? We can go through our high school yearbooks and rehash all the best gossip."

Bertholdt clears his throat, smiling. "Okay. I mean, if we want to really convince people we're dating, we should make sure someone sees us sneaking upstairs together."

Reiner flushes pink, and he pokes Bertholdt in the ribs as he holds back a laugh. "Bert! If we were really committed, we'd fake a proposal, but I guess that would be in poor taste to do at my mom's engagement party. Come on, grab another cupcake and let's go upstairs before someone breaks out the eggnog and this party gets out of hand." 


	3. three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reiner and Bertholdt reminisce on the good old days and ponder what comes next.

It’s funny, the things that have changed in all the years that Bertholdt’s been away. His friends have new jobs, new lives, and there are new stores downtown, the kind of modern coffee shops and restaurants that seem to be infiltrating every town in the country. But stepping into Reiner’s bedroom is like stepping back in time. Bertholdt is taken aback, standing in the doorway of the small room, but how much it hasn’t changed in so many years. He still has all the same furniture, same wallpaper, and the same galaxy print quilt on his bed.

It transports Bertholdt back to his teenage years when they used to stuff up inside on snow days and play video games all day. And then he laughs, because Reiner is so much taller and broader as an adult, and the image of him flopping down onto the bed surrounded by all of his childhood favorites is just too endearing.

Reiner glances up at him, his cheeks pink. “What? I know it’s not cool that I still live at home, but—“

“No, it’s not that,” Bertholdt says. He bites his lip and closes the door, smiling. “I was just thinking how different you are now. It’s just funny remember how you were when we were seventeen.”

He furrows his brow. “I’m not that different.”

Bertholdt pauses. “Well, I mean…”

He trails off, then adds sheepishly, “Clearly, you work out.”

Reiner glances down at himself, which nearly sends Bertholdt reeling again: the idea that Reiner doesn’t even know how buff he is and how well that sweater hugs his chest. But he must understand what Bertholdt means, because when he looks up, he’s blushing even harder.

“Oh,” he says, giving a nonchalant shrug. “Yeah, I do.”

“Sorry,” Bertholdt blurts out. “I didn’t mean that to be weird. I just meant–“

“No, it’s fine! I know what you meant.”

“You look good,” Bertholdt finishes, then stops short. Oh god, it’s hot in this room.

Reiner is holding back a smile when Bertholdt glances back to him. He scoots over and pats the place on the bed next to him without another word, and Bertholdt sinks into his seat, awkwardly stuffing the cupcake he’s holding into his mouth so he has an excuse not to talk. At the very least, it will keep him from saying something embarrassing for the next minute. Reiner bends over and shuffles a storage box out from under his bed, prying it open to reveal a stack of high school yearbooks beneath. Bertholdt thought he was kidding about reliving old gossip, just trying to come up with an excuse to let Bertholdt take a break from the party; but Reiner picks a few books out of the box and sits cross-legged on the bed facing Bertholdt as he pages through one of them. 

"I was actually just looking through these recently," Reiner says, thumbing open the cover of a yearbook. "Just a few weeks ago. My mom wanted me to see if Annie and I ever had any pictures in the yearbook together, so she could put them up on the mantle. But the only club we were ever in was the Quiz Bowl, and we had to wear those awful teal polos. Remember?"

He flips to a page and holds it up for Bertholdt to see: there's a young Reiner and Annie, standing with their other teammates and holding their 3rd place trophy, and wearing the hideous club uniform that Bertholdt thinks Reiner might have burned in his backyard once he no longer needed it.

Bertholdt grins. "You guys look miserable there."

Reiner takes the yearbook back. "Quiz Bowl was awful. You were right not to join that club. Because you were too busy with—"

"Oh, no," Bertholdt exclaims, knowing what's coming next. "Please don't."

"Debate club," he exclaims, whipping the book back around. It's open to a glossy yearbook page highlighting some of the less populous (and less popular) clubs, and in the center photo stands a group of teenagers in heavy navy blazers with the school insignia on the breast. A young Bertholdt is off to one side, standing heads above the other students and the sleeves of his blazer inches too short on his arms. He still had a bit of baby fat in his face then, not to mention the unflattering haircut that he thinks his dad must've cut using a bowl. He's not even smiling in the photo, which Bertholdt knows is because he had braces at the time. 

Bertholdt glances up at Reiner, who is beaming. "That photo is awful. I think I cut it out of my own yearbook so I wouldn't have to look at it."

"Oh, come on," Reiner laughs, flipping the book back around. "You're adorable in this picture. Pouting because you don't want to show your braces? But hey, it seems like debate club came in handy for you, didn't it? You know, I've had girls from high school asking me about you for years, ever since they heard that you went to law school."

"Well, I hope you got to shove it in their faces tonight," Bertholdt says as Reiner continues to page through the books. 

"I have to thank you again for that," he says. "You don't know how satisfying it was to tell them that you were taken, and then watch the horror dawn on their faces as I realized I meant _by me."_

Bertholdt grins. "You're awful. You're using me for your high school revenge fantasi es."

Reiner shrugs, thumbing through the books. "They deserve it. They lusted after you, you know."

"What?" Bertholdt exclaims. "Who?"

"All the girls," Reiner says, glancing up at him. He pauses. "Well, probably everyone, but the girls were the most vocal about it. You were such a catch and you never gave any of them the time of day."

Bertholdt blinks at him. "That's not true. All the girls wanted you."

Reiner barks out a laugh and slams the book shut. "They were seriously out of their depths then."

"But don't you remember?" Bertholdt asks, furrowing his brow. "You were so popular at school dances."

"Only because I made a fool out of myself," he says. He stacks the books together and pushes them aside. "I might've been fun to be around, but you were the one everyone wanted. Every time a slow song came on, they'd hold their breath and wait for you to come out of the shadows and ask one of them to dance."

He cocks his head at Bertholdt. "But you never did, not with anybody."

His gaze is so curious that Bertholdt wonders what he's really saying. Reiner isn't that hard to read, but sometimes Bertholdt doesn't get him, the way he throws around his feelings like they don't mean anything, dropping bombshells so casually in conversation and brushing them off as unimportant. When he was in college, he used to listen to Reiner wail on the phone for hours, complaining about everything from a bad day at work to getting stood up for a date; he always had to circle the conversation back to the huge news that Reiner would drop in between the trivial. It was almost like he was too afraid of the truth to say it outright. 

Bertholdt settles for giving him a nonchalant shrug. "I never knew that anyone wanted to dance with me." 

Reiner drops his gaze and shuffles the books aside. "But would you have? If someone had asked."

"I guess it would have depended," Bertholdt says slowly, "on who was asking."

He waits for a response— his heart caught in his throat as he tries to decipher what Reiner is really asking him— but after a moment, Reiner simply rolls his eyes. 

"I bet you're quite the lawyer," he says, glancing back up at Bertholdt. "What's life like in the big city?"

"Oh," Bertholdt says, blinking. He sits back, tucking one leg up under him, the other hanging over the edge of the bed. "Well, it's definitely different."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he continues. "Um, there are a lot more people. A lot of cars. Everyone's always busy, or at least it seems that way. I'm busy, I guess, so I don't get out too much."

Reiner hums. "But you must like it."

"It's not bad," Bertholdt says, realizing as he speaks that he's not quite giving a glowing review. "There's a lot to do. Restaurants and shops and all that."

"And you like your job?"

He tries to give an enthusiastic nod. "Well, it's a job, at the end of the day. But being a lawyer isn't as exciting as some people think."

Reiner's eyes light up. "Oh no? It's not all yelling dramatically across the courtroom?"

Bertholdt purses his lips to hold back a smirk. "Alright, now you're just teasing me."

"I'm guessing your day involves a lot of paperwork."

He sighs. "Yeah. But it's not all bad. I mean, I'm good at it, or at least I think so. And it's a good job. Steady. That's the reason I went to law school in the first place."

Reiner says nothing, simply nodding. Law school, Bertholdt thinks, must have been when their lives began to take two different paths. He was busier than ever, studying hours every night to combat the terror of falling behind in class; and Reiner was still working at the farm, still living in Holly Valley, even though Bertholdt surely thought he'd had moved on by then. He guesses he can't blame Reiner for never leaving. It's their home, after all, and now that Bertholdt is back, he has to admit he misses it more than he thought.

There's something special about their small town, and he has so many memories here. For the first time since returning, he wonders if he could have a life here. It's hard to see, but it's there. The town's not that different, after all, and the farm is waiting for him. He knows the business inside and out, even if he's been away for a while. He's just not sure it would be the right choice for him to stay. 

The mattress dips between them as Reiner shuffles around, turning to face Bertholdt. He looks at him, his head slightly cocked to one side, his eyes quiet. Bertholdt recognizes that look. It's the same one he got downstairs, the way Reiner always used to look at him when he thought Bertholdt was bottling up his feelings instead of expressing himself. He was usually right about that, but it was still hard for Bertholdt to be direct with him, even though they were best friends for so long. He wonders if that has changed in him now that he's an adult, and he wonders, staring back at Reiner, if this is what Pieck meant: the way Reiner looks at him.

"Are you okay?" Reiner asks finally. "Honestly, it's fine if you want to go. I can drive you back anytime."

Bertholdt shakes his head. "I'm okay. It was probably good for me to have a little catharsis."

Reiner picks at a loose thread in the quilt, looking down. "Have you thought anymore about keeping the farm? Not to be an absolute busybody, but..."

He trails off, and Bertholdt takes in the silence, thinking. He can be honest with Reiner, of all people. After a quiet moment, he glances up to find Reiner watching him again, the same reverent silence written on his face as he waits patiently for Bertholdt to answer. 

"To be honest," Bertholdt starts, then stops. He hesitates, his gaze coming unfocused. He can still feel Reiner watching him. "I'm not sure what I'm thinking. I guess— coming home has made me realize that I missed Holly Valley more than I thought. I missed the farm, too, and it just makes me think... all that time I was away, I could've been here, helping my dad. He probably would've appreciated it."

He shakes his head. "But I didn't stay, so I can't change any of that now."

"But you can change that for the future," Reiner offers, glancing at him. "You know, moving forward, it's all yours."

Bertholdt sighs. "I know. And I— I guess part of me wants to keep the farm, just to keep that piece of my life the same. But I just don't know if I can stay here."

Reiner sits upright, suddenly, his gazed focused on Bertholdt. "Can I ask you something?"

"Uh," he says, blinking at Reiner. "Okay." 

"What makes you think your dad didn't want you to run the farm?" he asks softly. He looks at Bertholdt with his soft gaze, the shadows of the dimly lit bedroom crossing over his face. "You said something about that earlier today, when we were in the barn. And I keep thinking about it."

Bertholdt swallows the lump in his throat. "Oh. I think he did want me to run the farm. When I left for college, I think he hoped that I would come back and work with him. But after so long..."

He sighs. "When he was in the hospital, that's what he told me. He didn't know if I understood what this place is all about. He thought I'd been gone for too long, and that I'd changed." 

That's what tightens the knot in his stomach— the idea that after all these years away, it's not really Holly Valley that's different, but it's Bertholdt. He's the one who no longer belongs here, and it would be a mistake to try to fit into his old life like he used to. It's true, and his father could see it, even from where he lay on his deathbed. Bertholdt doesn't know if it was college that changed him, or law school, or working in the city, being too busy for the holidays, too busy to come home or even call, but his dad was right. He can still see the pieces of his old self in different places around Holly Valley: the carefree young boy who loved Christmas as much as anyone and wanted nothing more than to be with his friends and family. But he knows that that boy is gone now. 

Reiner sighs then, throwing his legs over the front end of the bed and shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, Bert," he exclaims. "I dragged you out to this party and I just keep making you miserable. You should be downstairs catching up with everyone and having a good time."

Bertholdt sits up. "It's fine, really. I haven't gotten a chance to talk to anyone about this stuff, so I should be thanking you. You're the only one I really wanted to catch up with anyways."

His heart is pounding again when Reiner glances at him with curious eyes, and Bertholdt is acutely aware of how close they're sitting on the end of his bed, their knees knocking and their hands just inches apart. The bedroom is small and quiet, and suddenly the space seems breathless between them, like they're the only two people in the world. He's aware also of the heat rising in his face, but most of all, the pink blush that seems to be creeping back up on Reiner's cheeks.

"Um," Reiner says, his eyes meeting Bertholdt's. "Anyone special in the city?"

Bertholdt tries not to smile too eagerly. "Is this the official end of our fake relationship?"

Reiner laughs under his breath. "Well, we can still pretend for my mom's sake. But it's not like it was much of a relationship to begin with. We could have come up with a backstory if you hadn't sprung it on me!"

"It was your idea in the first place," Bertholdt exclaims. 

"I was just kidding," Reiner insists, but he's still blushing. "I was just wondering— I didn't ask, so I hope I wasn't crossing any lines."

"Oh," Bertholdt says, softer. "Um, no, there's no one. I thought maybe— well, you said you were single. But I didn't want to cross any lines either."

Reiner is watching him.

"No," he murmurs. "You didn't."

Bertholdt looks back. "Oh, good. I wouldn't have wanted to make you uncomfortable."

"You didn't."

His heart pounds. "Oh. Good."

Reiner purses his lips, hiding his smile. "Are you free tomorrow?"

Bertholdt holds his breath. "Yes. I mean— I have some paperwork to do, but it won't take all day."

"Well," he continues, "I was just thinking. The bakery's closed, and the farm is having an open skate on the pond in the afternoon. I'll be working, but I thought maybe you'd want to come and hang out."

He glances up. "I won't nag you about the farm anymore. Or maybe I will, but only a little bit."

Bertholdt smiles. 

"But mostly," Reiner says, his eyes earnest, "I just want to spend time with you. We used to be so close, Bert, and if you're not staying in Holly Valley, then I want us to have fun together before you leave, like we used to." 

Bertholdt takes a breath. "Yeah, I'd like that too. So, it's um... it's a date?"

He pauses, his heart hammering so loudly that he's sure Reiner can hear it. He knows he's not thinking clearly in the moment, and he has a brief second of absolute panic— is he going to do this to Reiner? Confess his feeling after all these years and then leave him behind for a second time?

Reiner turns positively pink. "If you want it to be. I mean, it doesn't have to be! If you just want to hang out, then—"

"No, no," Bertholdt exclaims, shuffling towards him. "I want it to be. A date, I mean."

Reiner wilts into a smile. "Oh, okay. I mean, good. So do I." 

Their knees press together. They are only inches apart now, but to Bertholdt, it seems like an infinite amount of space. There's far too much room between them still, and his heart seems to be beating out of his chest as they seem to naturally lean in to each other. There's so much going on in his head, as he stares into Reiner's eyes and finally understand the gentle gaze that he reserves only for Bertholdt. But right now, he only has tunnel vision, and he forgets everything else as he leans in for a kiss. 

Neither of them hear the clickity-clack on the stairs before it's too late, and then the bedroom door bursts open. Bertholdt springs back with a gasp, and Reiner's eyes fly wide open. Karina stands in the doorway on a warpath. Her eyes light up when she sees them.

"There you are!" she exclaims, a hand over her heart. "I've been looking for you two all over the place! I should've known you'd snuck up here for a little peace and quiet, although there doesn't seem to be much of that going on."

"Mom," Reiner exclaims, his eyes wide and his face red. "What are you doing?"

"Reiner, dear, you know you're not allowed to have men in your room until you're married," Karina says firmly. "Now, your future step-cousins have just arrived, late as usual, and I think it would so kind of you to give them a tour of the house, excluding your bedroom. Didn't you clean in here before we had guests? Come downstairs and introduce them! Make them seem normal. You know the Leonharts are from the weird side of town."

"Can't Annie do it?" Reiner whines, but he is already being dragged out the door by his mother. 

"Be polite," Karina insists as she shoves him out. "Say hello to Mrs. Galliard on your way! I think she's in the dining room helping herself to yet another plate from the cheese board. Make sure she know that you're dating a lawyer! But don't mention any premarital canoodling!" 

Reiner manages to flash Bertholdt one last smile before he's pushed out the door. Then he's gone, and Bertholdt is left alone, sitting on Reiner's bed as Karina looms over him. She always used to terrify him when he was younger. Sleepovers at Reiner's house always included a stern shushing in the middle of the night so Karina could get her beauty sleep, or so she said. 

She bears down on Bertholdt with a saccharine smile and dusts her hands off on her Christmassy apron, the one she's been wearing all evening to give her guests the impression that she did the cooking. She did not.

"Now then, Bertholdt, dear," she says, "there's no use hiding up here like a wallflower! Come downstairs and enjoy the party."

She grabs him around the elbow with more force than he expects.

"We were all dreadfully sorry to hear about your father, dear," she continues, dragging him up off the bed. "But everyone wants to know now what you're going to do with the farm! You must have big plans."

"Oh," Bertholdt says. His feet move reluctantly. "I don't think I have much to say, honestly."

"Now, now, we don't bite!" 

Bertholdt is introduced and reintroduced to nearly every resident of Holly Valley, and they're all curious to hear about his future plans for the Christmas tree farm. They're equally bored and disappointed when he tells them he still plans on selling it, and eventually he is left to his own devices, standing on the edge of the party and observing the crowd. He slips through the rooms of the house, hoping he can catch Reiner again before the night is over, but he's nowhere to be found, and Bertholdt, having already been relieved by Reiner of his obligation to stick around any longer, decides to slip away and head home for the night, leaving the rest of Holly Valley to carry on with their cheerful celebrations. 

No one seems to notice when he surreptitiously calls a taxi as he dons his coat and scarf, before heading into the night. He's taken aback to find Reiner's cousin, Gabi, sitting on the stoop, catching snowflakes on her tongue. She turns pink when she sees him, but she recovers quickly, raising one eyebrow at him.

"Going so soon?" she asks. She sits with her hands stuffed in her pockets, squinting up at him. "The party's not over yet. The happy couple hasn't even opened their engagement presents."

"Oh," Bertholdt says awkwardly. "Well, that seems like a family affair. I didn't bring a gift anyways, so, um, I thought I would just head home." 

He furrows his brow. "What are you doing out here?" 

Gabi turns positively red. "Nothing."

Bertholdt pauses. "Hiding?"

"No," she exclaims. She hesitates. "Maybe."

He's taking a shot in the dark, but it's not a very outrageous one: "From that boy? Falco?"

Gabi shoots upright, seething, and brushes past Bertholdt on her way back inside. "You're even worse than Reiner."

She stops with her hand on the doorknob and glances back over her shoulder. "Speaking of Reiner— you two disappeared for a while. Where were you? Practicing for your so-called fake relationship?"

Bertholdt opens his mouth to respond, but he's left hanging. She gets the last word, smirking despite her lingering blush as she heads inside. When the door slams, Bertholdt is left standing on the front porch as the taxi's headlight appears in the distance, pulling up on the long drive. He lets out a long, shaky breath, his head swirling as he processes everything that just happened. What a night.


	4. four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reiner and Bertholdt go on their date, but it doesn't all go according to plan.

When Bertholdt wakes the next morning, the Christmas tree farm is blanketed in snow. 

He tugs on a cozy sweater and trails around the kitchen while his coffee brews. His sleep was a little restless last night; maybe because the farmhouse is old and empty, or maybe because he still has butterflies in his stomach from the party last night, and the way Reiner looked at him, the way they talked upstairs in his bedroom, and the way he smiled at Bertholdt just before Bertholdt lent in to kiss him. Of course, they didn't get that far because Karina barged in. But he'll see Reiner again today. They have a date.

He takes his coffee into his dad's office and returns to sorting through the paperwork. His mind is not as made up as when he arrived in Holly Valley yesterday, but if he's going to go through with the sale, then he'll need certain documents and it's going to take a while to find them. He ends up working for most of the morning, and it keeps his mind occupied to he doesn't have to worry about anything else, especially not what he's going to do with the farm, or what that will mean for him and Reiner.

It must be afternoon by the time Bertholdt finally tracks down the missing inventory records. He takes them to the living room and sits back in his dad's old armchair to read through all the notes of sale. It seems like the business has been doing just fine on its own. He'd heard his dad say that it wasn't what it used to be, but looking at the numbers, the farm seemed to be doing well. 

He's lost in paperwork when his phone buzzes. He jerks upright in the chair, hoping it's a message from Reiner. But that's silly, he realizes, as soon as he picks up his phone. They haven't even exchanged phone numbers yet. He furrows his brow at the screen.

**Willy Tybur**  
Looks like I'm headed your way tonight.   
There's a big storm coming through the valley on the 25th  
Let's meet tomorrow instead

Bertholdt blinks at the message, his stomach sinking. Willy wants to come early and finish the sale on Christmas eve? It means they could at least have business done before Christmas, but it's sooner than Bertholdt was expecting. He'll have to make his final decision tonight, and that thought puts a lump in his throat. 

There's a sudden knock at the door. Bertholdt jumps again, then sighs at himself. He puts his phone away, and as he's headed down the hall to answer the door, he tries to put the news out of his mind. Reiner's here. He wants to enjoy their time together, since it may be the only date they ever get. 

When Bertholdt opens the door, a cold rush of air blows in. Reiner stands there, his hands tucked into the pockets of his red plaid jacket and his trapper hat pulled down over his ears.

He beams at Bertholdt. "Hi."

Bertholdt's heart leaps. "Hi."

"I hope it's okay that for me to stop by," Reiner says. "I was working and I realized we never set a time for our, um, date."

"Oh, yeah," Bertholdt says, blinking. They'd been interrupted. "Um, well, do you want to come in?"

Reiner peers up at him. "You're not busy?"

He thinks about the phone in his pocket. "Uh, no, not really. I'm just doing some paperwork, but if you're free right now, then I can be too."

"Haha, okay." 

They come inside to the living room, shutting the cold wind out. Reiner takes off his hat and brushes out his hair with his hand, but it stays mussed. Bertholdt smiles at that. Reiner trails to the door of the living room, stopping just behind Bertholdt and gazing past him with a slight frown on his face. 

"Oh," he says, his voice going soft. "Your dad put up his Christmas tree?"

Bertholdt blinks around to the tree. It's been standing there in the corner, undecorated with a box of ornaments at its base, but he has hardly even noticed it since he's been sitting here reading through the papers. 

"Are you going to decorate it?" Reiner asks.

"Oh," Bertholdt says, glancing back to him. "I don't know. It's just a few days until Christmas now." 

Reiner says nothing else about the tree, following Bertholdt into the room, where they sit down awkwardly, staring at each other and trying not to blush. Bertholdt doesn't know what Reiner's thinking, but he's remembering last night: how close they sat next to each other and how much he wanted to kiss Reiner. He remembers too how Reiner leaned in and closed his eyes, waiting for Bertholdt to do it. It seems far away now, as they sit on opposite sides of the room and think of something less awkward to talk about.

"So," Reiner says finally, a hesitant smile on his face. "You disappeared last night. Or at least, I couldn't find you. Everyone was wondering where my 'boyfriend' ran off to."

"Oh," Bertholdt says, sitting upright. "I didn't mean to ditch you."

Reiner smirks at him. "Did you think I wouldn't notice that you left? I never got my goodnight kiss."

At once, the awkwardness melts, and Bertholdt doesn't care when he feels himself start to blush.

"I'm just kidding!" Reiner exclaims as he turns pink too. "I'm just giving you a hard time."

"It's okay," Bertholdt says. "I wish I had gotten to kiss you."

Reiner fidgets with his hat in his hands. "Well, haha, you can try again tonight." 

Bertholdt smiles at him. "So much for fake dating."

"It worked out really well, actually. If you see my mom spying on us at the pond, just ignore her. She's finally living out her dream." 

He laughs at that. "So, um, we're going skating, right?"

"Yeah," Reiner exclaims. "Only if you want to, but you seem like you could use a little fun. You've gotten a little uptight, Bert."

"What?" he protests. "I have not."

"Have too," Reiner counters, grinning. He stands and crosses to the armchair where Bertholdt is sitting, then reaches out a hand and wiggles his fingers, beckoning Bertholdt to take his hand. "Come on, I know you're secretly excited about ice skating."

"I haven't been ice skating in years," Bertholdt says. "I don't know if I'm any good."

His heart is hammering in his chest when he gingerly takes Reiner's hand. This is really happening, after all those years of pining and dreaming. Reiner wants to spend time with him, to hold his hand and skate with him, all couples do at Christmas. Bertholdt can't help but protest a little, because he wouldn't describe himself as uptight; but then again, he thinks they both know the only reason he's agreeing to ice skating is because Reiner is asking him. 

"You never forget how to skate," Reiner says as their hands fits together. He smiles. "Not when you're from Holly Valley."

Bertholdt smiles back, hoping Reiner can't hear his racing heart. "If you say so, Reiner."

He thinks for a moment, when they're standing there staring at each other, their hands fitting perfectly together, that he should just bend down and kiss Reiner. Forget the blushing, and the skating, and the awkwardness of it all— just kiss him now, like he's always wanted to. Kiss him as long as he has him. But he holds back, thinking that it's not the right moment yet. Last night would have been so naturally perfect, but tonight he can make even better. Wait until it gets dark, and they're skating under the stars together. Then he'll kiss him. That will be the moment. 

Reiner tugs his hand. "Well, grab your coat! The pond probably looks a little different than you remember from when we were kids, but I think you'll be happy with what we've done with it." 

True to Reiner's word, the pond has changed. Bertholdt can tell even from afar. When they were kids, they had to trek through the evergreen lot and then cross an open field to reach the frozen pond, where they would lace up their skates and race to the other side, trying to knock each other over. Reiner was more balanced and rarely fell, though Bertholdt still stubbornly believes it wasn't for his lack of trying; he just had a lower center of gravity. Today, as Reiner leads him through the farm, chatting and pointing out how things have changed, they follow a cleared trail that runs parallel to the evergreens, sparkling white lights strung over their heads. It's still afternoon, but it's chilly and the sun will be going down soon; somehow the lights make Bertholdt feel warmer. That, and having Reiner beside him like old times. 

They follow a group of kids who skip down the trail with ice skates in their hands. Bertholdt is taken aback when they come out onto the snowy white field where the frozen pond lies. The pond was always the hangout of neighborhood kids, though it was open to everyone; his father encouraged families to come out for a skate before buying their Christmas tree. Bertholdt realizes that his father must have finally followed through on his dream of making the pond into a real ice skating venue. There's a shack to rent skates and buy a drink, and there are benches full of families enjoying hot cocoa and pleasant holiday music that plays overhead. It's warm and charming, even to Bertholdt, who can't remember the last time he was so taken in by Christmas spirit. It's what his father always wanted.

The pond is popping with pairs of ice skates. Reiner leads Bertholdt around to the edge, where they watch the skates moving in circles, holding hands and chatting as they go.

"I know it's different," Reiner says after taking in Bertholdt's surprised expression. "But what do you think?"

Bertholdt blinks. "It's... great. This was all my dad's idea, wasn't it?"

Reiner nods. "People have been skating here forever, but you know, he wanted to make it something special."

He peers up at Bertholdt, smiling. "So, do you want to take a spin?"

"I meant what I said earlier," Bertholdt warns, laughing. "I haven't been skating in years."

"But you were always so good at it," Reiner insists. "And I want to hear all about your fabulous city life. Come on, you can catch me up while we skate." 

Bertholdt fumbles with the laces of his rental skates as they get ready to go on the ice. He's definitely out of practice, but he can already tell that it will come back to him, just by watching the other skaters. He and Reiner used to spend every winter weekend on the pond. It's something he'll never forget, no matter how long he's been away, but it's still a little nerve-wracking, watching Reiner head off onto the ice and beckoning Bertholdt forward. 

"Finally," Reiner exclaims, laughing when Bertholdt hobbles to the edge of the ice. He holds out both of his hands. "Need a little reminder?"

"I think I've got it," Bertholdt says. He takes the first tender stop onto the frozen pond, and his skates nearly slip out from under him. "Uh—"

Reiner is there, clutching both of his elbows and holding up upright.

"I've got you," he chuckles. He lets them glide away slowly as Bertholdt straightens up, finding his balance. "There you go! See, I said you'd remember how it's done." 

They come side by side, Reiner holding onto one of Bertholdt's elbows as they drift around the edge of the pond, letting the momentum of their movements carry them. Bertholdt can feel his face turning pink, but at the same time, he doesn't want to let go of where he's holding onto Reiner's shoulder. He wishes they were holding hands. But he's not silly enough to pretend to be so bad at ice skating that Reiner has to guide him the whole way. His heart hammers. Is he? 

"I think you've got it," Reiner exclaims. He cocks his head to watch Bertholdt's movements as he gets into the groove of skating again, the ice passing easily under their feet. "See? You've always been a good skater?"

Bertholdt's heart picks up when Reiner lets go of his elbow, only to casually slide his arm around Bertholdt's. He glances sideways at Reiner, trying not to smile too widely.

"Really?" he asks. "I always thought you were better than me."

Reiner raises an eyebrow. “Me? But you’re so elegant. You've always seemed so effortless on the ice.”

“Oh,” Bertholdt says, thinking back, and now that Reiner says it out loud, he wonders if maybe that was true. He never remembers struggling to learn any of the skating tricks, though Reiner could push him flat on his behind in any roughhouse race. Maybe he’s always been a pushover for Reiner.

They get the hang of it, skating in circles around the pond as the warm winter sun begins to set over Holly Valley. There are sparkling lights strung over the pond, and they come on as the day gets darker, the pond still full of couples and families out for a skate just a few days before Christmas. Reiner holds onto Bertholdt's arm, and Bertholdt keeps him close, blocking out all other thoughts, wishing that this moment could last forever just the way it is.

He glances back to Reiner as they come around the pond again. "So, what's your bakery like? I'll have to stop by, or is it so popular that I should order ahead?"

He's surprised when Reiner simply shrugs.

"Oh, well," Reiner says, then. "I don't think it will ever be that popular. But we get by, and we have some loyal customers. It would be nice to get a little more business, but that's just the way it is in a small town. People do what they can."

He nudges Bertholdt. "But don't let me complain! Tell me about city life."

"Really?" Bertholdt asks. "I don't know if I have anything more to say."

"Come on, I've always wondered what it's like out there," Reiner says, glancing up at him. "I love Holly Valley, but I do think about the big leagues sometimes. You know, how life might have been different if I'd left too."

Bertholdt laughs. "I don't know if I'd call it the big leagues. It's just different. Actually, it's about as opposite from Holly Valley as you can imagine. 

"Lots of people," he continues, "and none of them know your name. It's always busy, and the city's so big, I still get lost, even though I've lived there for years. There are plenty of good restaurants, though it's always hard to get a table. Probably good bakeries too. I doubt any of their cupcakes are as good as yours."

"Stop it," Reiner chides, but he's smiling. "You've never been to any of the fancy bakeries there? That's the first place I'd go."

"Maybe once or twice." He glances at Reiner. "I guess I don't have much of a sweet tooth anymore."

Reiner raises his eyebrows. "I beg to differ. You devoured those cupcakes last night."

"Well, like I said. They don't have anything like you."

He means to say _like yours_ , but it comes out, a Freudian slip of the tongue. Bertholdt pauses, his mouth hanging open. For a moment, he forgets to move his feet, and he nearly comes to a halt on the ice as he drifts with momentum and Reiner keeps going, his arm slipping out of Bertholdt's grasp. Bertholdt regains control and catches up, clearing his throat. 

"Like yours," he corrects. "I've never had a cupcake as good as yours."

They skate around the pond as the sun sets over the mountains in the distance, drawing a cotton-candy sky over the valley. The crowd on the pond thins out, and at some point, their hands seem to find each other, coming together in a warm grasp that brings them closer. They talk about anything other than the farm. Reiner tells him about all the local gossip, which Bertholdt listens to despite having heard it from Annie and Pieck the night before. He fills Reiner in on the boring details of his job, which Reiner pretends to understand or find even remotely interesting. They trade a few old stories of the days they spent together in Holly Valley, skating on the pond, or racing their bikes down the country roads, or building hideouts in the woods behind Reiner's house. 

The sun sets, and when the night has overtaken the land in brilliant starry blues, Bertholdt finds the moment approaching. Reiner's hand is still firmly grasped in his, and they've exhausted themselves, skating in circles and talking. He watches silently as Reiner tells him about his mother's upcoming wedding, and he thinks. This is it. This will be the kiss they've been waiting for. 

He opens his mouth to say something— to suggest that they grab some hot cocoa and find a bench, or head back down the trail with the glittering lights overhead— but he's surprised when Reiner speaks first. 

"Can I ask you something, Bert?" he starts. He doesn't look up from the ice where they drift slowly, their hands swinging together in time with the push of their skates.

Bertholdt closes his mouth. "Yeah. Anything."

Reiner hesitates for another second before he says, "It's about the farm."

"Oh," Bertholdt says.

The familiar knot in his stomach returns. He's just remembered the text he got from Willy earlier today, the one that he never replied to. He should tell Reiner. If he's just going to go through with it, then he should be honest. But he doesn't know how. Or maybe he's just scared.

"I don't want to keep harping on it," Reiner says, finally glancing up at him. "But you seemed unsure yesterday about what you were going to do, and you have to decide soon, right?"

"Yeah," Bertholdt says with a sigh. He pauses. "Actually... the buyer is on his way into town. He wants to close the sale tomorrow."

Reiner blinks at him. "I thought you said you had until after Christmas."

"I did. But there's a snowstorm coming, so he thought it would be better to get it over with. Sooner rather than later." 

"Oh," Reiner says softly, his gaze dropping. They come to a slow stop at the edge of the pond, and Reiner looks back up at him. "Are you going to sell?"

Bertholdt hesitates. 

"I don't know," he says finally, and he hates the way Reiner's face falls when he does. "I know my dad loved this place, and I know you love it too. But I can't just drop everything and move back here. My whole life is in the city."

He sighs. "Even my dad didn't think I could do it. Maybe he was right. I'm a lawyer, not a property manager. I can't keep the farm just because I'm feeling sentimental." 

"Is that what you want?" Reiner asks, staring at him. "To be a lawyer, and to live in a place where no one knows your name?"

Bertholdt blinks at him. 

"Or to come home?" Reiner asks. "Bert, don't you think that's what your dad meant? Don't you think he just wanted you to come home?"

He turns to fully face Bertholdt. "You've just been away for too long. You've forgotten what Christmas is like here, how special and magical it is, and how much it means to the people here. How much the Christmas tree farm means to Holly Valley. 

"I don't think he meant that you couldn't run the farm," Reiner finishes. "I think he just wanted you to find out where you really belong."

Bertholdt stops, staring at him. "And— what, you think that's here?" 

"Maybe," Reiner exclaims. "Would that be crazy? It's your home."

"Reiner," he sighs, shaking his head. "I just— I appreciate everything you've done and all that you've shown me, but I just don't think it makes sense. Even if I wanted to—"

"Do you?" Reiner asks. "Isn't there any part of you that wants to?"

Bertholdt drops his shoulders. "Of course there is. You're right— this place is my home. It's my childhood, where I grew up, and where my family lived. Of course there's a part of me that doesn't want to let that go. 

"But I'm not qualified to run this business," he exclaims. "Just because I grew up here doesn't mean I know how to manage it."

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Reiner says. "I'll stay on as manager, and you can just be the owner, if that's what you want."

He puts his hands together. "All I'm asking if for you to think about it. We're the last Christmas tree farm that cares about the community and about the long-term impact of this business. It means so much to the people of Holly Valley. Everyone is so proud of this farm. I mean, look around! Look how much people love this place.

"If you sell to that Tybur guy," he continues, "he's going to take away what makes it so special. It won't be the Hoover Family Christmas Tree Farm anymore."

Bertholdt stares at him, his heart pounding. There's a lump in his throat when he can finally bring himself to speak.

"So that's what you want?" he asks. "You like having the run of this place and you want to stay in charge?"

Reiner recoils, flushing white. "What? No. I'm just saying, I've worked here for years, and I know what I'm doing. I know what makes this place special. I'm just asking you—"

"Have you just been lurking around waiting for this?" Bertholdt exclaims. "Is that why you never left Holly Valley, not even after all these years? Not even when we promised each other that we'd get out of this town?" 

Reiner is staring at him with wide eyes. 

"I never left," he says, "because I was scared."

Bertholdt feels a sudden pang of regret in his stomach. He tries to swallow the lump in his throat, but it won't go away. He didn't mean what he just said to Reiner, but it's out in the open now. He doesn't know if he can take it back.

"I was so scared to face the world," Reiner says. "It was so much easier to stay here, where everything is familiar and everyone already knows me. To stay at the farm, where your dad knew me. He understood how much I cared about this place. I thought you did too."

"I do," Bertholdt breathes, but Reiner shakes his head.

"You left me," he exclaims, staring wide-eyed at Bertholdt. "I know we said we wanted to get out of here, but it's our _home_. And when you said you were leaving for college, I thought you'd see that I was too scared to go too. I thought you'd say something. I thought you'd want me to come with you. Or that you cared enough about me not to leave me behind."

He stops. "Either way, I guess I was wrong."

Bertholdt takes a short breath. "When you asked me— that night after graduation..."

He can remember it more clearly now. It was a day so different from this one. It was June, and the valley was alive with the promise of summer. Their graduation ceremony was in the morning, and the afternoon was spent celebrating with friends and family. Bertholdt remembers awkwardly being the center of attention as one of the few Holly Valley students to leave for college. He remembers how proud his dad was of his accomplishment, and now that he thinks about it, he remembers how uncharacteristically quiet Reiner was that afternoon, the way he sat alone in the shade and sipped on lemonade with the others celebrated.

They had stolen away that evening into the evergreen trees at the farm. In the summer, they were still young; Reiner and Bertholdt walked among them, sharing drinks they swiped from the farmhouse. He remembers being unusually giddy after the party, and he remembers, at one point, tripping on his own feet and Reiner, taking his hand to help him upright. 

He remembers now what Reiner asked him as they walked between the rows of short, green trees.

"You don't think you'll regret it," Reiner had asked as Bertholdt had dusted himself off. "Leaving home?"

Bertholdt had done his best to laugh, still desperately trying to conceal the enormous crush he had on his best friend. "No. I don't think there's anything left for me here."

Reiner had smiled back, but only half-heartedly. He had idly run his finger along the mouth of the lemonade bottle to make it sing. 

"Not even me?" he has asked, glancing up at Bertholdt.

Bertholdt had laughed. "You?"

Inside, his heart had been pounding. His mind had been racing. But of course, Reiner had not known that. How could he?

Under the sparkling lights at the pond, Bertholdt suddenly feels short of breath.

"Reiner," he says, staring at him. His voice comes out hoarse. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize..."

Reiner's face folds into something soft and concerned, but hurt nonetheless. He glides back on his skates. 

"Of course you are," he says softly. "Now after I've told you. After all these years."

"I didn't understand," Bertholdt says weakly. "I didn't..."

Reiner shakes his head.

"It's your farm," he says without looking up. "Do what you want with it."

He leave the pond, trekking off on his skates and disappearing into the crowd. He leaves Bertholdt standing there, blinking under the lights and the stars. He wants to call out after Reiner or chase him. He almost does, his skates inching toward the edge of the pond. But something stops him. He's not sure he has any right to chase after Reiner anymore, not after all these years passing unspoken between them and not after the things he just said. He's not sure if Reiner would care to hear what he has to say.


	5. five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Christmas Eve, Bertholdt faces his decision: to sell the farm, or to keep it? But of course, there's more to it than that.

Christmas Eve greets Holly Valley with a fresh snowfall from the night before. It lays unbroken in a sheet of white over the whole town, including the Christmas tree farm, where Bertholdt sits with a cup of coffee, getting all the sale documents in place. The radio plays in the background, and the weather report warns residents of the snowstorm approaching. They'll certainly have a white Christmas this year. Bertholdt hopes he can be gone by then. 

He figures the sale won't take long. The papers have already been drawn up, and Willy has agreed to the terms. He'll give a quick tour of the farm, just for posterity, and then it will just be a matter of signing the deed over to the Tybur estate. Once that's settled, Bertholdt can return to the city: to his life as he knows it. He won't have a home in Holly Valley anymore. 

It twists a knot in his stomach to think about. Over these last few days, he was beginning to imagine returning to his hometown for good. He started to see what it could be: the legacy of the Hoover Family Christmas Tree Farm and all its meaning to the people here. He started to imagine: how he could keep those special memories alive and ensure that the valley had a local tree farm for generations to come. He could have a life here again, and maybe a family. It was something he'd secretly imagined before, but so deeply that he didn't even know it was something who wanted. It was Reiner who showed him how things could be. 

It was Reiner all along. His best friend, his high school classmate, and the boy he was in love with for so many years, too scared to ever tell him the truth in case things didn't work out. And he found out last night that apparently Reiner thought the same thing, except he had tried to tell Bertholdt to stop him from leaving Holly Valley. And Bertholdt had been too caught up in his own problems to even listen. 

He sets the sale documents aside and finishes his coffee. There's no point in moping about it now. He didn't mean what he said to Reiner last night, but he said it. He'll sell the farm and he'll leave Holly Valley forever. He'll let Reiner find someone else: someone who deserves him. 

A knock on the front door echoes through the house. Bertholdt glances up, furrowing his brow. Could that be Willy already? He wasn't supposed to arrive until midday. The knock comes again, and again, a banging on the front door that springs Bertholdt upright and hurrying down the hall. Who on earth—

He pales when he opens the door to find Gabi standing on his doorstep. 

She glares up at him. "I'd like a word with you."

"Oh," Bertholdt says, frowning. "Gabi, I don't think—"

"What's wrong with you?!" she yells. "Why are you such a jerk?!"

Her face is red, her winter hat pulled tightly down over her head, and behind her lies a trail of bootprints in the unbroken snow leading up to the farmhouse. In the distance, Bertholdt spies the red truck, Reiner's car, and a shivering Falco trudging through the snow towards them. 

"Gabi," Bertholdt says hesitantly. "I don't know what Reiner told you, but— it's complicated. Maybe it's better to let it just—"

"He didn't have to tell me anything," she exclaims, glaring up at him. "I saw the look in his eyes. He's been stress-baking all morning! We're overrun with bread."

She pauses, letting out a huff, then narrows her eyes at Bertholdt. "You care about him, don't you?"

Bertholdt's heart clenches. "Of course, I do. But—"

"Then why are you being so mean?!"

"I didn't mean to upset him," Bertholdt exclaims. "I was just angry and I— I let it get the better of me."

She seethes. "Well, I hope you're happy. The least you could do is apologize before you run away again. Sell your stupid farm too! I didn't want to work here anyways."

Gabi whips around, pulling out her car keys, and jerks her head at Falco, who had just trudged all the way through the snow up to the front porch of the farmhouse. "Come on, we're leaving."

He gives Bertholdt a pity smile before he turns around to follow her. "Sorry, Mr. Hoover! She's just— you know."

Bertholdt sighs to himself as they retreat, Gabi stalking through the snow and Falco chasing after her. Is she right? He's certain that Reiner will never want to see him again after what he said last night, but maybe he should apologize before he leaves. At least he could say goodbye to this town knowing he tried to make amends, if nothing else. He trails back into the house, biting his lip with worry. When he returns to the office, his phone is lit up with text messages from Willy, who is already on his way into town. From the estimate he gives Bertholdt, he'll be at the farm in half an hour; after that, Bertholdt hopes to be headed back to the city. He has just enough time. 

The red truck is gone when he heads out to his car. That's probably for the better, since he thinks Gabi might bite his head off if he tried to ask her for directions to Reiner's bakery. He'll have to find it on his own then and hope that Reiner will let him inside to deliver his apology. Where did Reiner say it was? That's right: downtown, where the frozen yogurt shop used to be, a place they frequented together in their youth. 

The roads have barely been plowed when Bertholdt drives into town. With the storm coming that night, there's probably not much use in clearing all the snow only to have it dumped back down onto the streets. There are still people out on Christmas eve, though the town is not as crowded as it was when he arrived a few days ago. It seems strange that so much has happened in just two days, and now Bertholdt is getting ready to leave this place forever. He remembers how he felt when he left for college: how scared he was to be on his own, but how much he was looking forward to seeing the outside world. He imagines how Reiner must have felt being left behind. 

At last, he spots the bakery, a pastel storefront on Main Street. He pulls into a space just outside the store, but he finds himself sitting in his car for a few minutes, anxiety building inside of him. He knows he needs to apologize, to at least leave both of them with the peace of mind that they can put all of this behind them and move on. It's just something he has to do. 

The store is empty when Bertholdt enters. A bell chime softly on the door, and from the back room, someone call faintly, "Be right with you!"

Bertholdt's stomach clenches. He recognizes Reiner's voice. It sends fear through him, and for a second, he almost changes his mind; but then he glances around the bakery, and he is too taken aback to think any further.

The walls are white, with sweet pastel tables and chairs, and a sweet warm smell in the air. Something is baking in the back, something that smells delicious and makes his mouth water. There's a display case at the front counter filled with cupcakes and other sweet treats, and even though Bertholdt has professed that he doesn't have a sweet tooth anymore, he still remembers how good Reiner's cupcakes were at the party. He can't help but admire them; they come in so many different flavors with perfect decorations by hand. He leans in to peer at the cakes through the glass, almost forgetting why he is even there. Then suddenly someone appears behind the display, and Bertholdt blinks, a chill running through him. 

He stands upright at once. 

Reiner stands in the doorway to the kitchen, an apron tied over his clothes. His kitchen gloves are covered in flour, and he stares at Bertholdt with wide eyes. Overhead, soft Christmas music plays on the radio. For a moment, it is the only sound as the two of them stare at each other.

Finally, Reiner opens his mouth. "Hi. I didn't expect to see you here."

Bertholdt tries to swallow the lump in his throat. "Hi. It, um, it smells great in here. And everything looks really good. It looks amazing."

"Thanks," Reiner says shortly, politely. He takes a hesitant step forward, stripping off his plastic gloves. He tosses them into a bin and glances up at Bertholdt. "So, um, can I help you?"

He takes a deep breath, glancing down at his hands. He came here for one thing, and he has to get it out. 

"Reiner," Bertholdt says softly. His gaze wavers as he blinks at the floor, trying to summon the courage. Then he glances up and says, "I'm sorry."

Reiner watches him with pensive eyes. 

"For everything," Bertholdt continues. "For what I said to you yesterday— that was uncalled for. I didn't really mean it. I was just... angry, I guess, and confused. And I took it out on you when you were just trying to help me."

He pauses. "And I'm sorry, too, for all those years ago— when you tried to tell me how you felt, and I just... I left you behind." 

He blinks, glancing up when Reiner sighs. 

"Oh, Bertholdt," he mutters. "If you're going to apologize for speaking without thinking, then I should too. I can't be mad at you for something I never told you about."

He shakes his head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have put so much pressure on you about the farm. And I should have just been honest with you, all those years ago. I should have just told you."

"Well, it's hard to do," Bertholdt says softly. He swallows the lump in his throat. "That's why I never told you either."

Reiner glances up. He blinks at Bertholdt with wide eyes, and Bertholdt thinks the sweet air of the bakery is getting to him; he feels lightheaded all of a sudden, with Reiner's curious gaze on him, as the realization comes over Reiner and he turns pink, his mouth falling open.

"Even now," Bertholdt says, pressing forward before he loses the courage. "It's hard for me to face the truth. To admit to myself how much I care about you, Reiner. And not just you, but this place. This town. Our _home_. You've reminded me of what makes it so magical. You've shown me how to love it again."

The words come out of his mouth before he even knows what he’s saying, and then Bertholdt stops. His heart pounds. He doesn’t want to sell the farm. He doesn’t want to leave Holly Valley, and he doesn’t want to leave Reiner behind, not again. He’s had a life in the city, but he could have a life here too: in his hometown, with the people who know him and love him. In the place where his father raised him.

Over the counter, their eyes meet. Warmth rushes through Bertholdt: love. He sees it now, what Pieck mentioned to him: the way Reiner looks at him. He knows it because it's the same way he feels when he looks at Reiner. 

"Are you..." Reiner asks. He trails off, letting his words fall out of the air.

"I'm thinking of staying," Bertholdt says softly, filling in where Reiner left off. Speaking the words aloud fills him with confidence, and he smiles, nodding. "I'm staying. I'm _staying."_

A small smile blooms on Reiner's face. "For good?"

Bertholdt smiles back. "For good."

"Oh, Bert," Reiner exclaims, bounding around from behind the counter. He rushes up to Bertholdt and pulls him into another bear hug, squeezing so tightly around his shoulders that Bertholdt thinks he might stop breathing. Or maybe it's because he has Reiner here in his arms, and they're not going to be apart anymore. After all these years, they can truly be together again. 

Reiner pulls back just as suddenly, his face pink. "This is what you want, right? You're not doing this just for me."

"No," Bertholdt exclaims, although there is a part of him that wants to exclaim _yes_. "No, this is what I want. For me and for the farm. You're the one who helped me see that."

He hesitates. "But to be honest... I am a little scared."

"Scared of what?" Reiner exclaims, furrowing his brow. He squeezes his hand around one of Bertholdt's arms. "It's your farm! You know better than anyone what it needs to thrive."

Bertholdt smiles at him. "I guess you're right. It's just that, the farm is my family's legacy. Like you said, it's important to Holly Valley. I want to do right by it. I'm just scared that I'll screw it up."

"Bert," Reiner says softly. His hand trails down Bertholdt's arm to grab one of his hands and intertwine their fingers together. "You can do it. I know you can."

"You think so?" 

"Of course," Reiner exclaims. He squeezes Bertholdt's hand. "And you know, you don't have to do it alone. I mean, you have a whole family here! Everyone who works at the farm, and all of our friends. And..."

He smiles. "You have me."

Bertholdt's heart swells with love, and he grasps Reiner's hand, beaming at him. "You're right. We can do it together."

All of a sudden, it hits Bertholdt, standing there in the bakery as Reiner smiles up at him, their hands intertwined. This is the moment. With the sweet smell of sugar in the air and their grievances out of the way, this is the moment he finally gets to kiss Reiner. It's perfect. 

"Oh," Reiner exclaims suddenly, his eyes going wide. "Wait, isn't the sale happening today?"

Bertholdt blinks. "Oh, yeah. Willy is probably already at the farm. I should go tell him so he's not waiting on me."

"I'll come with you!" 

"Are you sure?" he asks. "Won't you have to close the bakery?"

Reiner slips his apron off and tosses it aside. "It's Christmas Eve! I'm closing early anyways. Just give me a minute to wrap up, okay?"

As he closes down the bakery for the holidays, Bertholdt turns to the front window, filled with love, warmth, and a bit of adrenaline from the decisions of the day. He's surprised to notice that the weather has changed rapidly since he left the farm. The snowstorm has been forecast for days, but it wasn't supposed to arrive until later tonight to rain a fresh Christmas snow. But the winds are blowing strongly down Main Street, and the town seems nearly empty now, most of Holly Valley's residents having retreated inside to watch the snow gather from the safety of their warm homes. 

The snow gets heavier as they climb into Bertholdt's car to head back to the farm. Having lived in Holly Valley all his life, Reiner seems to think nothing of the change in weather, happily sliding into the passenger seat with a freshly baked loaf of bread that he's brought along as compensation for the undoubtedly disappointed buyer. Bertholdt, on the other hand, has been experiencing milder winters in the city for the last few years, and the adrenaline in his system builds into nerves as he drives them out into the storm. 

The storm only grows heavier by the minute. What started as a light flurry becomes a blinding white blizzard whirling down on top of them. Bertholdt clutches at the steering wheel and squints into the snow. It's nearly impossible to see, even with the headlights, and though he knows it's much further to the farm, he's worried about spinning out. They'd be stuck on the road for hours until the storm passed. 

Reiner reaches over and grabs one of his arms, frowning. "Bert, you really have been away for a while. I've never seen anyone have so much trouble driving in the snow."

"It's a storm!" Bertholdt exclaims. The car shakes with the roaring wind. "I didn't think it was supposed to come this soon anyways."

"You never know with weather in the valley," Reiner says. He squeezes Bertholdt's arm. "Do you want me to drive? We can pull over here."

"What? No, we're not that much further." Bertholdt squints into the snow, trying to keep the car on the right side of the road. "If we just keep going like this—"

"Look out!" Reiner cries, squeezing his arm. 

The wind has been blowing flurries of snow right into his eyes, and in the second that it clears up, Bertholdt realizes he's lost the road entirely. The car plows straight into a snowbank. It stops suddenly, buried in snow up to the hood. Bertholdt catches his breath. Then he puts the car into reverse and tries to back out. No luck. The wheels must be stuck in the snow. He sighs, putting the car into park and slumping back into his seat. 

"We're stuck," he says miserably. 

Reiner glances out the window. "Maybe we can shovel some of the snow out of the way. Get it out from under the tires." 

Bertholdt looks at him. "Maybe. But I don't have a shovel."

"You don't keep a snow shovel in your trunk?" Reiner exclaims. "You're going to need one from now on."

Despite the mess they find themselves in— his car, stuck in a snowbank, and the chill that pervades the air when he turns off the engine to conserve gas, and the weak cell signal he's getting when he checks his phone... well, despite all of that, he can't help but smile at Reiner, who shuffles the wrapped bread loaf into his lap to provide him some warmth. Bertholdt sits up in his seat, laughing to himself. 

"It's not that bad," Reiner says. He shuffles around in his seat to face Bertholdt. 

"I should've let you drive." 

"Well, maybe." He smiles at Bertholdt. "But at least we're together. And you know what? Trapped in snowstorm together on Christmas Eve? That's kind of romantic."

Bertholdt smiles, reaching across the center console to take one of Reiner's hands in his. Their fingers fit nicely together, and he's warm to Bertholdt's touch, despite the cold and the snow outside.

"I feel bad," he sighs, squeezing Reiner's hand. "Willy must be at the farm, wondering what's going on. I made him drive all the way out here for a sale that's not even going to happen. And there's a storm. _And_ it's Christmas Eve!" 

"Hey, come on," Reiner says. "Most of that is not your fault."

Bertholdt laughs. "Most of it! Thanks, Reiner."

"You know what I mean!" 

They're quiet for a moment, the wind howling outside. Then Bertholdt glances back to Reiner. 

"I really am sorry," he says softly. "About everything I said yesterday and everything that's happened. I shouldn't have talked to you like that." 

"Bert," Reiner murmurs, his brow furrowing in concern. 

"And for treating you like that," he continues. "Even if I didn't know the truth— all those years, I left you behind. The least I could've done was call."

"You did call," Reiner says. He squeezes Bertholdt's hand and clasps his other hand over their intertwined fingers. "You did for a long time, remember? We used to talk every week when you were in college."

He shrugs. "We just grew apart. It happens to everyone." 

"I guess so," Bertholdt sighs. He turns his gaze to the windshield, which is quickly being covered in snow. He frowns. They may have to start shoveling with their hands soon if they want to make it out of here tonight. "You know, even a few days ago when I left the city, I think there was a part of me that wanted to come back to Holly Valley. I think I must have known what my dad meant— I knew I had changed. I knew it would have been good for me to come home and remember what's important. But I didn't want to admit it to myself. And my dad was already gone, so... it was just easier to move on. Or at least to pretend."

He glances back to Reiner. "I wanted to see you too."

Reiner raises one eyebrow, barely holding back a smirk. "Yeah?"

Bertholdt smiles too. "Yeah. That crush I had on you— it didn't end after high school. I never stopped liking you."

"Oh, Bert. Stop it."

"I'm serious. When I saw you for the first time, when we met at the barn a few days ago—" He shakes his head, smiling to himself. "You really took my breath away. I'd forgotten how it felt just to be around you."

Reiner smiles tenderly, leaning back against the seat as he sits sideways, facing Bertholdt. He plays with the sleeve of Bertholdt's coat, running his hand up and down it as he thinks.

"I thought about you a lot," he murmurs after a moment. "Where you were and what you were doing. I always hoped I'd see you again." 

His gaze flicks up to Bertholdt suddenly. 

"I just remembered," he says softly. "I never got my goodnight kiss."

Bertholdt tries to hold back his wide smile. "I think it's been too long to make up for that. I can give you something better."

Reiner grins. "Oh, really? What?"

"How about," Bertholdt breathes, leaning in, his heart pounding, "a, um... a hello kiss?"

"A what?" Reiner whispers. 

"Because, you know... we're saying hello. Hello again. Hello to us?"

Reiner laughs softly, shifting upright to put his hands on Bertholdt's shoulder. "I hope you're better at kissing than you are at making puns."

"Cut me some slack," Bertholdt mutters. "We're trapped in a snowstorm." 

"Alright, just this once." Reiner stares into his eyes, a blush rising across his face despite the chill in the car. "Now will you kiss me, please, Bert?"

Bertholdt smiles. He leans in, one hand clutching at Reiner's cheek, and he pushes their lips together. Their eyes flutter shut. Reiner's hands grasp at his shirt as Bertholdt kisses him. He's warm, and soft, and he tastes like sugar, butter, vanilla, like everything Bertholdt ever imagined. He is unbelievably sweet, and he hums on Bertholdt's lips, pressing deeper into the kiss as the snow falls around them. They may be trapped in a car on Christmas Eve, but at least they have this moment together. And it's a perfect moment. 

Reiner keeps his eyes shut when Bertholdt pulls away, their faces only inches apart. He smiles, his hand wrapped in the collar of Bertholdt's shirt. "Hello."

"Hello," Bertholdt breathes, admiring him. 

"Hello to us," Reiner murmurs, before pushing back into the kiss. 

It's warm and perfect and everything Bertholdt has ever wanted— until someone knocks on the car window, and the two of them jump out of their seats with yelps. Bertholdt jerks around, his eyes wide, and comes face to face with a person standing outside his car, waving at them, their face masked with a balaclava and a hat pulled tightly down their forehead. 

"Hey, lovebirds," they call from behind the mistake. The voice is unmistakably familiar— and snarky.

"Gabi?" Reiner exclaims, shooting upright in his seat. 

Bertholdt flings the door open, wincing at the icy flurries that fly into the car. Gabi stands there, ankle deep in snow, and she pulls her balaclava down to glare at Bertholdt. 

"There are probably more comfortable places to make out around here," she yells over the wind of the snowstorm.

"What are you doing?" Reiner exclaims. "You shouldn't be out in this weather!"

"It's just a blizzard," she dismisses. "I can handle it!"

Over her shoulder, Bertholdt spies the red truck idling on the road with the headlights on. When he squints, he can just make out Falco waving at them from inside the car.

"Do you two want a ride or something?" Gabi asks, reluctantly glancing at Bertholdt to include him. "We can tow your car out later. Who let you drive around in this weather?" 

Bertholdt is a little hesitant about leaving his car behind in the snowbank, but less so when he takes Reiner's hand and joins them in the truck, out of the snow and ice. It's a tight squeeze, the four of them nearly stacked on top of each other, but Gabi agrees to drive them to the farm and that's what he needs right now. He worries about her driving ability, based on what he experienced the other night, but as she pulls back onto the road and heads towards the farm, it becomes apparent that driving in heavy snow is an inborn skill in Holly Valley. Bertholdt hopes he can remember how to do it. 

"So," Gabi says, eyeing them as the truck speeds down the snowy road. "You two made up, I guess."

"What are you doing out in this storm?" Reiner exclaims. He leans over Falco to furrow his brow at her. "Just because you _can_ drive, doesn't mean you should!"

"It's my fault," Falco cries, glancing between them. "Gabi was driving me home after our date and we got caught in the storm!"

"Oh my god," Gabi hisses, shooting him a look. "Don't tell them!"

"A date?" Reiner exclaims, suddenly beaming again. "You two were on a date? A Christmas Eve date? That's so cute!"

"Don't make it weird," Gabi exclaims, shouting over the engine and the wind. "You're the one getting stranded in snowstorms to make out with random men!"

"You know very well who Bertholdt is," Reiner says, rolling his eyes. "And it's not like it was on purpose! We got stuck. Well, Bert got us stuck."

"Uh-huh. City boy's forgotten how to drive in the snow." 

"Hey," Bertholdt protests weakly. Falco is the only one who acknowledges them, leaning over in the bench to pass him a sympathetic smile.

The strong winds have died down a little bit by the time the truck pulls up to the farm, but the snow is falling just as thickly. Business has been shut down for the holidays, and the lot is empty except for a few cars of lingering employees who have stayed been to close shop during the worst of the storm. There is one car that seems out of place though: a sleek sports car that Bertholdt knows must belong to Willy Tybur. Gabi pulls up to the employee parking just outside the barn, where a light is on inside. He must be waiting.

When she turns the engine off, she turns to Reiner and Bertholdt with suspicsion. "You're not selling the farm, are you?"

Falco's eyes light up with joy. "What? Really?"

Bertholdt sighs, adjusting his scarf. "No, I'm not. I'm keeping it."

Reiner smiles at him. "It's going to stay in the family."

"That's right," Bertholdt adds, smiling back. "It is."

Gabi gags. 

"You two can go get warm in the farmhouse," Bertholdt says. He digs the house key and pauses before tossing it to Falco, the one who seems slightly less likely to lose it. "We'll be there soon." 

Their shoes leave tracks in the snow as Reiner and Bertholdt walk to the barn, but their prints are quickly filled in; the snow continues to fall heavily around them, landing in their hair and on their eyelashes. When they get closer, Bertholdt reaches out instinctively, and he finds Reiner's hand there, waiting to be taken. 

Reiner glances up at him. "Do you want me to go in with you? It's your business." 

Bertholdt smiles, tugging on his hand. "No, it's ours. I want you with me."

Willy Tybur is a senior partner at the law firm where Bertholdt works— and he's always intimidated Bertholdt, if not for his renown as an attorney, then for his clean sense of style that leaves him impeccably dressed no matter the situation. It makes it even stranger when Bertholdt opens the doors of the small, humble barn and finds Willy sitting at the employees' craft counter, dressed in a sleek dark suit and scrolling through his phone. The cold wind blows in through the door, announcing their arrival, and Willy glances up at them.

"There are you," he says to Bertholdt. He sits upright and sets his phone aside. "One of your elves let me in and said I could wait here. It looks like you got caught in the storm."

"I did," Bertholdt says, brushing the snow out of his hair. He takes a few steps inside, suddenly feeling nervous. "I'm sorry for making you drive all the way out here in such bad weather, and for keeping you waiting for so long. Especially because..."

Willy raises an eyebrow at him. 

"I won't be selling the farm after all," Bertholdt says firmly. "I'm sorry for changing my mind at the last minute, but the farm is going to stay in my family." 

Silence settles over the barn, save the cold wind blowing outside. Willy seems to take in this decision, gazing over Bertholdt as he stands slowly and buttons his suit jacket. Reiner stands behind Bertholdt, cradling the loaf of bread in one arm. He never lets go of Bertholdt's hand. 

"You know," Willy says finally, glancing between them. "I had a feeling you might say that."

Bertholdt blinks at him. "Really?"

"I'm from a town like this too," he explains with a slight shrug. "Just across the river."

He glances around the small barn, at the spools of ribbons and tubes of wrapping paper. "Now, I didn't grow up to inherit my family's timeless Christmas tree farm, but if I had, I think it'd find it all too irresistible to sell. Especially a place as charming as this. I remembered, driving down from the mountains, how beautiful this valley is in winter. How magical it can be, all lit up for the holidays." 

"Oh," Bertholdt says, his nerves relaxing. "That's... reassuring. I hope I haven't inconvenienced you too much."

"Well, this weather is a bit tricky," he says, gesturing out the window. "I made it into town just in time, but I don't know if I'll be headed back to the city anytime soon."

Outside, the wind howls again, and it rattles the windows of the barn. Bertholdt glances around, at the thick snow falling outside, then back to Willy. 

"It's a blizzard out there," he says. "And you drove all the way out here. The least we can do is offer you a place to stay."

Willy shakes his head, raising one hand. "That's alright. I'll stay through the worst of the storm, if you don't mind. But I think tonight I should drives across the river to my own hometown and surprise my family."

He smiles to himself. "I've probably been away too long."

Snow continues to fall over Holly Valley. It blankets the land in white, and as the sun begins to set behind the cloud, the whole valley sparkles and shines. But despite the cold outside, they manage to keep warm inside the farmhouse, where Bertholdt builds a fire in the living room. He and Reiner take to the kitchen, where they put on the Christmas radio while Bertholdt spoons up mugs of hot cocoa and Reiner slices his freshly baked bread for a cozy, afternoon snack. Gabi and Falco try not to sit too closely together on the couch, but they can't seem to keep themselves apart, even as Willy regales them with urban legends from the city, most of which Bertholdt knows are not true. Still, it makes for good entertainment, at least until the snow begins to let up and Willy departs, shaking Bertholdt's hand with a knowing look in his eyes. He seems to understand that Bertholdt won't be returning to the city, and Bertholdt wonders, as his sleek sports car drives off towards the mountains, if he will either. 

He finds himself standing there at the window, watching as the storm lets up and the moon appears in rich blue sky sparkling with stars. That was always one of the best things about living in Holly Valley; when all the lights are out, the stars can be seen so clearly overhead that it's almost impossible to look away. 

"Hey," comes a soft voice from behind Bertholdt, and he glances around to find Reiner padding up behind him, arms wrapped around himself in his cozy sweater. He sidles up next to Bertholdt, smiling. "So, um, we were interrupted earlier."

Bertholdt grins. "Yeah, we were. Should we pick up where we left off? Or—"

His eyes dart into the living room, where Gabi and Falco are on their knees by the coffee table, working on a puzzle.

"Um," he says, lowering his voice. "Maybe we should wait until we're alone."

Reiner chuckles. "You're adorable. Always have been."

He leans in, beaming when Bertholdt slides an arm around his waist and pulls him close. Bertholdt holds him like that for a minute as they stand and watch the moon rise over the valley, shimmering across the fields of snow. Reiner lays his head on Bertholdt's shoulder and lets his eyes fall shut, lets the warmth and comfort of Christmas Eve on the farm overtake him. 

After a moment, Bertholdt looks down at him. "Hey."

Reiner hums, resting on his shoulder. "What?"

"My dad never got to decorate his tree," he says, and Reiner glances up at him. Bertholdt smiles. "But it's only Christmas Eve. We still have time to do it for him, don't we?"

His eyes shine when he smiles up at Bertholdt. "Bert, we have all the time in the world."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merry crimbas thank u for reading


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